


Russian Roulette

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Teresa Lisbon joins the CBI, practically everything she's ever wished for falls on her plate: an excellent career, a new love and the like. Things start to unravel when she slowly, but surely, discovers that her new husband is the famous serial killer, Red John. Will she forgive him, or does she have to rely on Patrick Jane to help her out of one of the biggest messes she's ever found herself in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Serial Killer Big Bang on LiveJournal. Art by robothor1111. With thanks to Miss Peg for betaing.

 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Lisbon glanced up to see a pair of warm brown eyes staring back down at her. The files she’d been hurrying along to Minelli’s office were strewn across the floor and she cursed quietly. Damn the man. Although it wouldn’t take her all that long to sort the paperwork out again, it was more of a hindrance than anything. If only he had actually been looking where he was going, rather than being too busy tied up with his cell phone, then she would have already been delivering the case notes to her boss, rather than wasting time.

The man, noticing her frustration, quickly knelt beside her and helped her to scoop up the loose sheets. She smiled weakly, but really, it was the least he could do. When she straightened up slightly, she finally had the chance to regard him properly.

He was a little older than she was, maybe in his late thirties. Clean shaven, short dark wavy hair. Dark brown eyes which were just begging to welcome her in. Though she only knew him vaguely, just one look at him made her feel like she had known him for a lifetime. That was impossible, however, as she had only been working for the CBI for a matter of months. Before then, she had barely known anybody outside of San Francisco. Sacramento, after all, had been well outside of her jurisdiction.

That was until Virgil Minelli had decided to take a chance on her, of course. Naturally, she was infinitely grateful, but was well aware that she was currently under a trial period. If she didn’t continue to impress the senior special agent, then Lisbon knew she would be heading straight back to San Francisco. Sam Bosco, at least, had always promised her a job there, if she needed it.

But she wasn’t going to let it come down to that. It wasn’t in her nature to not seize such an important opportunity.

“You’re Teresa, right?”

She nodded, frowning. How the hell did he know her name?

“Agent Teresa Lisbon, with the Serious Crimes Unit,” she elaborated as she accepted the stack of files from the stranger’s hands. “And you are?”

“Jackson Roberts. I work with the PSU,” he answered with a grin. “But please, call me Jack.”

“Well, thank you, Jack,” Lisbon answered, knowing full well just how stilted her speech sounded. “I’ll see you again.”

“I hope so,” he said warmly.

Briefly, she watched as he sauntered up the corridor towards the vending machines. As far as she was concerned, they were a waste of money, but obviously, he disagreed. Lisbon glanced at her watch before completing her journey to Minelli’s office and knocking smartly on the door. She was only running five minutes late, but that was more than enough time to irritate her. Time was precious to somebody like Virgil Minelli – to everyone who worked at the CBI, really – and it was entirely possible that he would hold her tardiness against her. After all, she could constantly feel the judgment of her colleagues, something which she tried to ignore. Minelli’s, she accepted, purely because he was her boss (and her boss’ boss) and it was his job to do so.

“Agent Lisbon,” he said warmly and indicated to the chair opposite him. “Take a seat.”

She inclined her head slightly as she obeyed his instructions. Before she nervously perched on the edge of the seat, however, she handed over the file in her hands and held her breath. The file wasn’t that important; it had just been an excuse for her boss to send her to this meeting with Minelli, and Lisbon knew it. However, she was still waiting for the comment about her being delayed, but it didn’t seem like it was coming. Instead, it appeared that he either hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind.

Before she could say anything else or apologize, even, he gave her another nondescript file, not too dissimilar to the one she had delivered to him. Quietly, he requested that she take a look at it immediately, before she even left his office. In silence, Lisbon opened it carefully but snapped it back shut the moment that she saw the photograph that was attached to the first page.

This was a case file that belonged to Red John.

From the weight of it, it was probably just the annotated notes of the file, but enough to give her a detailed look into the serial killer. However, that didn’t explain why Minelli had given it to her right here and now.

“I would like you to read through that file; tell me any insight you might have.”

“But this is _Red John_ ,” she said, well aware that she was stating the obvious.

He just smiled at her as her frown deepened. Like many of the agents at the CBI, Lisbon knew the basics of the case. She was aware that he had been active since 1998, that he killed women, usually in their twenties and left a smiley face painted in his victim’s blood. Over the past five years, he had built up a level of notoriety. Almost everyone knew his nickname; even the general public had picked up on it.

And since his emergence, the case had been in the hands of the CBI’s Major Crimes Unit.

Seeing her consternation, Minelli elaborated. “I’m looking to transfer the case to Serious Crimes.”

“But-“ Lisbon started.

“Why am I asking you first?”

Lisbon nodded. She wasn’t the senior agent of the unit and couldn’t see any promotions happening within the foreseeable future. This was still her trial period; she had no reason to think otherwise. As far as she was concerned, Minelli should have been talking to her boss, not her.

“I’m pleased with the progress you have been making, Agent,” Minelli continued eventually. “I have always had it in mind to promote you soon.”

“Agent Hart-”

“Is a good cop,” he interrupted again; Minelli was keen to dispel all of her concerns. “But he has already expressed an interest in moving on. When he chooses to do so, you will be taking over his position as lead agent.”

She sat there, in a stunned silence. Minelli was practically suggesting that he fast-tracked her. He had made it clear from the very beginning that he had believed that she was wasted in the San Francisco Police Department, hence the reason he had head-hunted her. When she had signed on the dotted line, he had made it clear that he expected her to have a long and varied career with the CBI. However, despite the praise he had lavished on her, she still believed that she was probably too young to be leading her own unit. The same would apply even in a year or so. However, Minelli obviously wanted to show faith in her and believed she was nearly ready.

And Lisbon knew that she couldn’t let him down.

After all, how many people got this kind of chance so early in their careers?

When she left the office, after stating her thanks, she was mildly surprised to bump into Jackson once again. Tucking some loose hair behind her ear, she smiled at him, but avoided making eye contact. She didn’t quite know what made her feel that way; she barely knew the man. He was a passing acquaintance at most. However, the simple fact of the matter was that there was a certain look in his eyes which she wasn’t sure about. Half of her wanted to run for the hills, but the rest was intrigued. Lisbon wanted to get closer to him, to work out precisely what made him tick. She shook her head and reasserted to herself that this was all ludicrous. They did not know each other and future chances to interact with him were slim.

“Good news?” he enquired.

Lisbon shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it.”

“In a good enough mood to go out for a coffee with me?” he pressed on.

She smiled coyly in response. “Maybe another time.”

xxx

The serial killer more commonly known as Red John took a step back to admire his handiwork. It had taken him all night to get the crime scene to look precisely how he wanted it to. The damp blood glistened on the wall in the early morning sun and he smiled.

In twenty-four hours’ time, her husband would be home and his calling card – the smiley face – would culminate in the confirmation of everything the man feared.

The dread would begin to set in earlier, however. When her cell phone rang in two hours’ time, for their pre-work chat, Sophie Fairweather would, uncharacteristically, be unable to answer it. He would grow more frantic with worry as she appeared to miss his each and every call. Logical reasons would fly out of the window – her phone had run out of battery, she’d left it at home before rushing off to work, it had been stolen – as he began to envisage the worst. Desperately, he would try to move around the important meetings he had scheduled, but Daniel Fairweather would find it impossible to get them to budge. After all, they had been scheduled for a long while and he hadn’t wanted to leave his wife for a week.

Just when his worry would hit its peak, he would finally be able to come home to the ominously quiet house. Of course she wouldn’t answer the door; he’d have to resort it digging his keys out of his briefcase instead. Red John closed his eyes as he imagined the man searching through the house, calling Sophie’s name out desperately. Her car was still neatly parked on the front drive; she never bothered to walk anywhere. Ergo, she had to be in.

Finally, he would reach the master bedroom and open up the door. The smiley face would ensure that his world would come crashing down around him before he even saw the mangled body lying on the king-size bed. And the whole thing would be utterly perfect.

Red John had been studying the Fairweather family for a long while. He knew precisely how the minds of both Sophie and Daniel worked. Just how their thought processes behaved. Slowly, he had ingrained himself into their lives and became Daniel’s best friend and Sophie’s confidant. They remained completely oblivious to his plans. Instead, they had believed he was a godsend and that they couldn’t live without him in their lives anymore.

Murder, of course, was the ultimate betrayal.

And it was Red John’s way of exerting the ultimate level of control as well. So much of life was chaos and disorganized. He craved order, things happening to his specification, and what better way for him to do that than choose when his supposed friends died? Blood was all he craved during the day, when he was forced to act like a responsible member of society. At night, he allowed himself to slip out of the shadows and shine in his true colors.

Nobody knew his true identity until it was too late. And that was what made it all the more thrilling.

Slowly, he withdrew from the crime scene. As he closed the door to, he smirked.

Sophie Fairweather’s fleeting similarities in appearance to a certain Teresa Lisbon were serendipitous to say the least.


	2. Know Your Enemy

She lingered in the background as the Major Crimes Unit surveyed the body. Overnight, Red John had struck again. The time of death had been estimated at some point between one and three a.m., not dissimilar to any of his previous murders. The timing had immediately thrown Lisbon; she had barely had a chance to open the case files and already, Red John had killed again.

Silently, she told herself that it was a coincidence. After all, what else could it have been?

Like herself, Minelli had been horrified by what had just happened. The shock had been evident in his voice as he had informed her of the latest developments. He wanted the SCU to work in conjunction with Major Crimes in order to bridge the transfer of the case. She was fine with that, of course she was. The same applied to her colleagues. Her boss, Agent Hart, was engrossed in other matters and Rigsby and Cho were eager to sink their teeth into something different. None of them knew about Minelli's plans for Lisbon and she was keen to keep it that way.

But now, she wasn't sure how she could be of any use on this specific case. Though she had already been witness to a number of dead bodies – many of them mutilated beyond recognition – none of them could have prepared her for the sheer precision of Red John and his bloody knife.

Considering she was unfamiliar with the case, it seemed to her that he left nothing to chance or fate. From the presentation alone, she figured that Red John was the kind of murderer who saw death as a fine art, a higher calling. And he knew precisely what they were looking for too. He didn't give anything away to them. They knew he was responsible – the leering smiley face above the body being evidence of that – but beyond that, they had no idea.

How the hell were they supposed to identify the human behind the mysterious Red John when he seemed to be keeping a minimum of two steps ahead of them at all times?

And yet, that was exactly what she was expected to do. Soon enough, she would be the lead agent in this case. Considering that Minelli had already given her a heads up, she expected that it was going to happen sooner rather than later. Therefore, in a short amount of time, she would be expected to read between the lines and find the mistakes that Red John made. Virgil Minelli trusted that she already had the capabilities to do that.

Instead, she was just trying to ensure that she didn't become too daunted by the task in hand.

She closed her eyes, but the stench of blood still hit her. Lisbon could practically imagine the poor girl screaming for mercy, bound in duct tape within an inch of her life. Was the smiley face painted on the wall pre- or post-death, she wondered. Probably before; Red John most likely couldn't resist seeing the dawning realization in his victims' faces. Seeing the moment of comprehension, when they just knew there was no hope in them getting out of this one alive.

The monster probably liked to see the death of their spirit happening moments before their bodies gave up on them.

Lisbon shook her head quickly as she took a few steps forwards. She knew there were people who said that a cop and killer were the two sides of the very same coin. That one was never too far from the other. And it was an established fact that cops could become killers too. The longer she had spent in the job, the more gruesome and vivid her imagination had become.

It was little wonder that some people let the darkness consume them.

Of course, she believed she had a stronger character than that. Her fingers briefly grazed against the cross pendant around her neck and she offered a silent prayer for Sophie Fairweather. The young girl was only in her twenties and should have had the rest of her adult life ahead of her. Instead, it had been cruelly cut short by another human being. Other people may have dared label him a monster, but regardless of his actions, he was still human. To call him anything but would give him delusions of grandeur.

Cho and Rigsby didn't say much while at the crime scene either and by the time they left, the air was heavy with thought around them. Lisbon sensed their confusion; why were they being involved in the Red John case? Why hadn't her superior, Agent Hart, taken an interest in it? What could they truly contribute to it? These questions, she knew, she would have to answer in time. For now, she was too deep in her own thoughts.

The fleeting similarities between herself and the latest victim hadn't escaped her. Sure, she was a touch younger, but her facial similarities were striking, especially the green eyes. Lisbon made a mental note to research that a little deeper when she got home and had the case file at hand, but for now, she knew she would have to push it to one side. Paranoia was never going to do her any good, especially when it came to this specific case. After all, paranoia was all it was. She had no evidence that she fit into Red John's M.O. and even if she did, the likelihood of him choosing her as a victim was still negligible.

It also suggested that she suspected somebody she knew as being the serial killer. After all, it was statistically far more likely to be killed by somebody you were familiar with than not.

Naturally, that was something else she made a mental note of. If Red John chose his killers in the way she expected, rather than indiscriminately, then there had to be something in that. There had to be something linking each and every one of his victims. Some reason why he would have known them all and slotted himself into their lives.

She expected that others had investigated it, but she made it her mission to discover what the link was.

xxx

"Can you look through these files for me?"

Red John nodded absentmindedly but wasn't really concentrating on what was going on around him. Regular visits from Virgil Minelli were part of his job description and the question on his lips was usually the same one. His job was mundane, boring and little more than pencil-pushing. However, it was in an interesting place with fascinating co-workers and paid a decent amount. It was enough to keep a roof over his head, his car on the road and his cupboards fully stocked with food.

It also gave him more than enough disposable income to fund his hobby.

After all, it was only when pursuing that specific interest when he truly felt alive.

To him, there was nothing better than controlling the destinies of other people. His trusted silver blade felt like an extension of his right arm. The mask protected his identity, much like a superhero

Or super villain, as many people preferred to think of him as.

His pseudonym struck fear in the hearts of men. The smiley face he painted on walls in warm blood was delightfully contradictory.

The power he wielded over others was second to none.

It was why he hadn't been that driven when it came to his career. What job could match the thrills he received in his spare time? The cops he worked with, they claimed they got a buzz whenever they made a big arrest. However, there were still walls, boundaries and lines drawn in the sand. Unlike him, they were restricted in the actions they carried out. And besides, they could only get their fix whenever there was a criminal to chase down.

His fingers brushed against the manila file and he toyed with the idea of opening it. Quickly, he changed his mind and decided it could wait until later. For now, he was too agitated to concentrate. He wanted to hear if his latest deeds had caused ripples within the CBI headquarters. Red John hadn't heard if they had discovered the body yet, if they were trying to figure out what to do next and it was bothering him.

Then again, he wasn't likely to hear a whisper trapped in the confines of these four walls.

The first person he saw was Teresa Lisbon, heading in the direction of Ballistics. He smiled briefly at her, enquired as to her health, asked her if she had any interesting cases to work on. She answered as quickly and as coyly as he expected of her. Red John decided at that moment there was something quite endearing about her. He'd known a fair bit about her anyway, thanks to his job position, but that didn't get across the charm she unknowingly possessed. As she hurried away, he watched until she disappeared around the corner before continuing towards the kitchenette.

If there was any gossip to be heard, he knew that was usually the place to hear it.

Kimball Cho and the newest recruit of the CBI, Wayne Rigsby, were huddled around the coffee machine. When he entered, neither one of them paid him any heed. Naturally, they were engrossed in conversation and paying more attention to what the other was saying instead of their coffees. Red John listened intently as he propped his tea, Earl Grey, of course. Neither man bothered to censor his speech, despite talking freely in a public place. So, when he heard mention of his latest victim's name, Red John couldn't help but crack a smile.

It didn't matter what unit people worked in. Whenever Red John killed, it was all they could ever talk about.

That was just the way he liked it, of course. If he could set the entire bureau into a frenzy, then he was doing it right.

He hummed gently to himself as he strolled back to his office. However much he enjoyed discovering people's reactions to his crimes of passion, he still had a job to do. If he didn't keep up with his mountainous pile of paperwork, then he would be reprimanded and could even end up being stripped of his position. Then, he wouldn't have been able to get the cheap thrills of listening to reactions like that of Rigsby and Cho's first hand.

Soon enough, he was settled back down again and had found the ability to concentrate. Immediately, he opened the file that Minelli had given him a short while ago. There was no time like the present to work on it.

When he saw Teresa Lisbon's face looking back at him, he was pleasantly surprised.

Red John had heard the rumors about Agent Hart's leaving, but this was the first confirmation he'd had about it. The fact that Lisbon was being promoted was unexpected, but he knew enough about her as a cop to know it was deserved. He picked up a ballpoint pen and tapped it against his lips, thinking. Before this development in her career, he'd found himself drawn to her.

And there was always a reason for that kind of thing.

But killing a cop was always a dangerous business. It would have been breaking his modus operandi, too.

Then again, he was always looking for new ways to challenge himself.

Red John didn't need to know much more about the lovely agent in question to know that she would indeed be delightfully challenging…


	3. Distractions/Plans

The next month disappeared in the blink of an eye. Lisbon felt like she was being pulled in all directions for that duration. Whenever she wasn't working the Red John case, and specifically, the Fairweather murder, there were other, newer, cases plying for her attention. And when the cases weren't keeping her busy, her boss was preparing her for her imminent promotion.

When she had first been informed that Agent Hart was due to leave for a higher position in Nevada, she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Last Friday, the man had said his farewells, packed away his belongings and left without much fuss. Today was her first day officially in charge of the CBI's Serious Crimes Unit. Once they had been informed of the changes in leadership, Rigsby and Cho had both been thrilled. They had claimed that it couldn't have happened to a better person and were confident in her abilities to lead the unit to bigger and better things.

Naturally, Lisbon was less sure. It still felt like it had been rushed and she wasn't quite ready for the responsibility yet.

Unsurprisingly, the first order of the day was a meeting with Virgil Minelli. Lisbon arrived at a prompt five minutes to nine and found herself waiting beside his vacant office. Still, she consoled herself with the fact it was always better to be early than late. She wasn't left waiting long; two minutes later, her boss arrived with a coffee in hand and swiftly ushered her inside.

For a brief while, Lisbon watched as he organized himself for the day ahead. Then, he silently handed her a couple of case files, ready for her perusal. Lisbon knew what these were; they were the first cases she was to deal with as lead agent. Quietly, she thanked him and scanned through the first page of them both. From what she could tell, it was pretty basic stuff or at least, as basic as murder could have been. However, she knew from past experience that looks could be deceiving. Either one of these cases – or both, even – could easily throw her and the team a curveball to take them off guard.

"How are you feeling, Teresa?" Minelli eventually asked.

"Fine," she answered, surprised by his first question.

"Right. And how are you _really_ feeling?"

She paused for a while and considered his question. Lisbon knew her boss well enough to know that he was genuinely interested and he wasn't looking for a chink in her armor. Ever since she had moved to Sacramento, he had taken her under his wing and looked after her. He never said it, but she half suspected that he saw her as a surrogate daughter. Not a replacement for the one he lost to cancer a few years back, but just another one. He was also one of the few people who knew her troubled past; the deaths of both her parents at an early age. How she'd single-handedly brought up her three brothers.

How she'd escaped her past and made a name for herself as an up-and-coming cop in California.

He'd also admitted on a number of occasions that he saw potential to be truly great in her. That, she felt was an honor. She never felt like she was that great herself. Then again, that was probably due to her always seeing the worst in herself. That was a legacy of her upbringing, battle scars from her father. If she could change it, then of course she would. However, it was easier said than done.

Instead, she promised herself that she would do her utmost to repay Minelli's faith.

"Nervous," she eventually admitted aloud. "Excited. I just want to get on with it, I think."

"That's what I like to hear," he said with a warm smile. "Your office will be ready in a few days. I hope you can do without for that time?"

She blinked; she had practically forgotten about getting her own private space. "Of course."

"Good. You're dismissed, Agent."

When she got back to the bullpen, the others hadn't yet arrived. However, Jackson Roberts was staring straight at her with a wry smile. He placed a coffee and a paper bag on her desk and nodded encouragingly at her. She frowned and sat down in front of her computer, eyeing him warily. Over the past month, he seemed to be attempting to catch her eye more, had made numerous offers of coffee or lunch and the like. However much she would have liked to accept it, she had always been too busy to do so.

"What's this for?" she asked, when he sat down opposite her.

"If I can't take you to coffee, I thought I'd bring the coffee to you."

"Right. Thanks, I think."

"And congratulations on your recent promotion."

"You seem very well informed," she answered suspiciously.

"I work in PSU, remember?"

She smiled slightly in response and took a sip of the coffee. It had been made just the way she liked it. Briefly she wondered how he knew that, but then again, she was already on good terms with the coffee cart guy. He'd probably just asked for whatever her favorite was. The same applied to the bear claw he quickly offered her before she had the chance to place the drink back down again. In a way, it was nice actually finally having the time to sit down and talk to him properly instead of snatched moments here and there. Still, she felt like she was on the back foot whenever she spoke to him; he always seemed far too informed about her whereas she only just knew his name.

"I think we need to celebrate this achievement."

" _We_?"

"Why not?" Jackson answered, grinning widely. "It'll be my shout."

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?"

"If you want to call it that," he replied coyly.

A call of hello from Rigsby quickly pulled Lisbon back to reality. Her team was arriving and she couldn't be seen _flirting_ with the man from the Professional Standards Unit. If she was going to start her new job as lead agent properly, then she had to get rid of him and fast. Besides, she did have some cases to get on with. At least she already knew that neither of them should take her out of town in the immediate future. After hurried yes, an apology about having to get on and him proposing a date and location, Lisbon watched as he disappeared up the hallway.

He was gone moments before Cho and Rigsby joined her in the bullpen, patiently awaiting her first instructions as boss. Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't a moment too soon.

xxx

Red John scrutinized his appearance in the mirror one final time. He scowled as he plucked a stray thread from his jacket sleeve, then nodded, satisfied. It felt like a long time since he had last been on something that could have been labeled as a date and he almost felt excited. And nervous, too. He had been taken by surprise when Teresa Lisbon had suggested that this celebratory meal could have been seen as something more than just a casual meal shared between co-workers. It was a pleasing development, however.

It made things a hell of a lot easier.

That wasn't to say he was planning to kill her in the immediate future. No, he had already decided that he wanted to play the long game with the lovely Teresa. She was a naturally suspicious sort; it was a cost that she had paid due to her job. However, that was what was going to make it all the more entertaining for him. There were other people he could dispose of in the meantime to quench his bloodthirsty nature. At the same time, he could be grooming her, ready for the spectacular fallout.

The murder of Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon was going to be his most audacious yet.

After all, she wasn't your typical victim. Of course, she still was a victim nevertheless, but it wasn't something that was easy to point out. He'd done plenty of research on her. He knew about her mother's death in a car crash when she was barely a teenager. How her abusive father had committed suicide within four years of his wife's death. How she was left to pick up the pieces. Naturally, it had left her with a chip on her shoulder. It also meant that she was a tough nut to crack and likely to push people away if they appeared too threatening.

Thankfully, he was used to working with tough customers. He'd also made acting amiable, friendly, trusting and just plain _nice_ an art form in itself. Red John had reeled in many a woman before destroying every aspect about them in a heartbeat. However, preying on the obviously weak was getting a little tiresome. At least Teresa Lisbon would provide a break to the monotony of his usual victims.

Eventually, he nodded, satisfied with his general appearance. A neatly pressed shirt and his denim jeans suggested he'd made an effort, but not too much. He was clean-shaven and didn't have a hair out of place. And to finish off the ensemble, he'd added just a dash of his favorite aftershave. If she wasn't impressed by this, then… he'd have to try a little harder next time. It would just be a stumbling block in the road; it wouldn't necessarily spell out doom and gloom. He certainly wouldn't let it destroy all of the plans that were quickly formulating in his quicksilver mind.

Teresa appeared nervous when he picked her up from her place. He'd insisted, of course. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Immediately, Red John suspected that it was the first time in a long while that she had actually decided to go on a date. She had been single for a long while, mostly relying upon one night stands to quell any desire or need for sex. He could even see her blaming her long-standing relationship status on the fact that she had an intimidating job description instead of the true root cause. No ordinary man would have wanted to feel belittled in the family home and if she was to be believed, her being a cop would do just that.

Of course, he was no ordinary man.

Naturally, he hoped that she felt the same way. Not just because it would make the process of reeling her in a hell of a lot easier, but also to quell a scratch at the pit of his brain. He wanted her to like him, to respect him, to think that he was 'good enough'.

And not just because it would make the ultimate downfall all the more rewarding. That wasn't going to happen for a long while anyway. Red John was more than aware that he was playing the long game with this specific woman.

The date, and celebration of her recent promotion, seemed to go well by his standards. She smiled warmly at him throughout and laughed in all the right places. The movie may have been crap, but that didn't seem to matter to Teresa in the slightest. If anything, it was a blessing in disguise; it gave him ample opportunity to mock it over dinner. And at least the meal was of a superior quality, even if she argued back when he insisted upon paying.

As far as he was concerned, from the moment she took hold of his face to capture his lips, that was payment enough.


	4. Doubt

They spent an increasing amount of time together and soon enough, Lisbon fell into a relationship with Jackson Roberts. She hadn't been looking for one; Lisbon found it difficult to truly trust other people and had been happy enough on her own. However, that was often the way. Before she died, her mother had always insisted that she shouldn't go looking for love. That it would find her when she least expected it to happen. Deep down, she had always clung onto that belief. And now, though she was still behaving cautiously about it all, it seemed true enough.

And she genuinely did like him. He was easy to talk to, always trying to please and he never made her feel uncomfortable. Even if she was behaving nonsensically, he seemed to take it in his stride and never judged when she tried to push him away. In that respect, he appeared to be the polar opposite of any other man she had fallen for and she appreciated the change.

That was why, after six months of dating, she felt the need to introduce him to her brothers. However tempestuous her relationships with them, she did appreciate their opinions on such matters. One by one, she cautiously organized the meetings. James and Joseph had both been thrilled with the developments. They had been pleased that their elder sister was finally showing signs that she was ready to settle down and do something relatively normal. After everything they had been through as kids, it was all they had ever wanted for her.

Tommy, however, was always going to be the hard sell. That was unsurprising given the fact he had always been the most difficult of the three.

At least the meal had been pleasant enough. Jackson had immediately charmed Tommy's six year old daughter, Annabeth, and the girl had been on her best behavior. Tommy, meanwhile, had yet to say something rude, but Lisbon knew there was always time. After all, he had spent most of the afternoon shooting dirty glares in Jackson's direction. Even though he squeezed her hand reassuringly, Lisbon could tell that Jack was finding the situation as uncomfortable as she was.

Later on, they returned to Tommy's place. Annabeth was happily playing 'Cowboys and Indians' with her toy ponies in the middle of the lounge. Despite lame protestations about bedtime from her father, Jack insisted that she was doing no harm. Besides, it wasn't a school night and he was trying to get to know both Tommy and his daughter.

The television provided background noise, filling the silence when stilted conversation could not. Lisbon couldn't help but judge her brother's taste in TV when she realized it was a dodgy chat show onscreen. Worse, the featured guest was some man masquerading as a psychic. She watched, only intrigued by the fact that people could fall so easily for such a charlatan.

Then again, he _was_ good. And there was no denying that he was rather easy on the eye, either.

"I'll turn it off," Tommy said rather hastily.

"Don't," Jack insisted.

He was practically rapt until the end of the segment and only drew his attention away whenever it cut to adverts. Lisbon eyed him warily, making note of the fact he was squeezing the armrest of the couch so tightly that the whites of his knuckles were showing. She frowned; he had no reason to be acting so tense, especially over something as stupid as this. Everyone knew that psychics didn't exist, that this man was little more than a con artist. Didn't they?

Only when his cellphone rang shrilly was he no longer transfixed by the screen. Instead, his attention was transferred onto the device until the call ended. Everybody watched as he answered the call in short, sharp sentences. Once he said goodbye, Lisbon finally dared to speak to him.

"What's happened, what's wrong?"

"I've got to go," he answered and she gave him a pointed look when he didn't elaborate. Eventually, he sighed and continued. "My mom's taken a fall; I've got to go see her."

"You sure that's all?"

"Teresa…"

"Okay, okay," she said, relenting. "Send her my love."

He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and Lisbon flinched at the touch. Unlike the other kisses he sent her way, it seemed like it was lacking something. Then again, she couldn't blame him if his mind was elsewhere. She understood how and why he was so protective of his elderly mother. Lisbon could remember all too clearly what it was like to be the main breadwinner of the family at an all too young age. Just because he was suffering the slow and steady demise of a parent at an older age, it didn't make it any easier.

"I probably won't be back home for a few days. You'll let work know for me?"

She nodded and he seemed to accept her word for it. Jack gave his farewells quickly to Annabeth and Tommy, the latter of whom seemed like he couldn't wait to get rid of him. When his car had pulled off the drive and disappeared into the distance, Tommy rounded on her.

"What the hell was all that about, Reese?" he asked with a steady glare.

"Really, Tommy? He's _stressed_. Wouldn't you be if something happened to-"

"Who? Mom, Dad?" he replied, baiting her. "They're dead, Reese. Remember?"

"How can I forget?" she seethed. "What about Annabeth, Joe, Jay… me?"

"I don't like him."

Lisbon stared at her brother, surprised by the quick change of subject. Then again, whenever her brother didn't like the direction the conversation was going in, he was liable to do that. Her concerns that Jackson hadn't been telling her the whole truth had quickly dissipated and been replaced with frustrations about her brother. He could never seem to be happy for anyone else, barring himself. Out of all four of them, he was the only one who really wore the chip on his shoulder.

"I wasn't asking you to like him."

"Oh yeah? Then why the hell did you bring him here, then?"

xxx

The lie had tripped easily off of his tongue.

Of course it did, it was only a white lie and their whole relationship was based on them. Deceit was a natural state of mind for Red John and some people were easier than others to fleece. He'd half expected Teresa Lisbon to see straight through him, to work out what he actually was. While she had briefly questioned him, she had dropped the matter quickly. It was almost disappointing. Her famous Rottweiler attitude at work was half of the reason he'd been drawn to her. Then again, had she not been distracted by her foolish younger brother, than maybe she would have had more fight left in her.

Still, it made it easier to slip away and disappear into the ether. He didn't have a mother; she'd died, years ago. His father went much the same way. Red John would know, they were his first murders. Of course, nobody knew that. He'd been naïve, back then. Didn't have the same kind of finesse which he prided himself now. It was a matter of luck that he had managed to (literally) get away with murder. Instead, the cases had been left in the bottom of a pile somewhere. Cold cases, officially. Unsolved murders. There were no links to Red John. He'd made sure of that since.

Now, he knew. He played with no such chance. Red John knew what he was doing, he had experience and expertise. If he wanted to kill somebody, he could.

He also made sure to effortlessly ensure that his personas appeared entirely separate in the public eye.

The moment that somebody suspected him of being the serial killer, he was going to be in trouble. Of course, he wasn't going to let that happen. Anybody who got close enough to suspect ended up six feet under anyway.

There was one exception to that rule.

Red John had been aware of Patrick Jane for quite some time. He had been watching with eagle eyes as the man had volunteered his services to aid the Major Crimes Unit with his case. When the case had changed hands to a certain Teresa Lisbon, Jane's association had been put into jeopardy. Not because Minelli hadn't been somewhat pleased with the charlatan's assistance in the case, but mostly because of logistics behind the scenes. In other words, Red John had thrown a spanner into the works during his day work.

Seeing him on television, acting as if nothing had changed, had annoyed him.

His company hadn't been able to quell the rage bubbling inside him. Nor had he been able to stop thinking about anything other than retaliating.

One of his allies had called him, asking 'what should we do?'

 _I'll be there_ , he'd responded. _I'll sort it out_.

And sort it out, he would.

For death would have been too kind for somebody like Patrick Jane. No, Red John had a fate much worse than death planned for him. Something deserving of a man with such an ego, such arrogance. He didn't need taking down just a step or two, but a whole damn flight of stairs. He needed reminding that he was human, that he had flaws, that he made mistakes.

That he had just made the worst mistake of his damn life.

When they had first crossed paths, Red John had suspected that Jane would behave in such a way. That was why he had taken it upon himself to learn every minute fact about the man that he could. His upbringing, his friends, what he prided himself on… his family.

Contrary to popular belief, Red John understood family. He knew that that was where a man's weakness was likely to be. He understood that people always relied upon their family in times of trouble. They always expected them to be there, to hold their hands, to catch them when they fell. That was why so many people's lives fell apart whenever something disastrously wrong happened to that support unit. It was half the reason Lisbon – with her broken background and walls as a consequence – was such an interesting person.

And Jane did have a family. He had a wife, who had suffered with him for too long, and a pretty little daughter. While it would be sad, almost, to kill Angela Ruskin-Jane, it would almost be a blessing in disguise for her. After all, how long had Jane been destroying her from the inside for? As for the girl, that would be the most devastating part of his plans for Patrick Jane.

No man was meant to outlive his children.

But Patrick Jane was going to do just that.

Throughout the flight to Malibu, the very thought had Red John humming with excitement.

He'd had the pleasure of meeting with the Jane family on a number of occasions. Angela was a pleasant woman, who carried her tension well. Surprisingly enough, young Charlotte was a well brought up little lady. If Patrick Jane hadn't been her father, then he was sure that Charlotte would have been destined for great things. Alas, that wasn't meant to be. Instead, she had a date with his silver blade.

On the final part of his journey to the Jane family residence, Red John found himself moving faster and faster. Swiftly, he knocked three times on the door and waited as patiently as he could. He wasn't a friend of the family, per se, but he was definitely an acquaintance. It wouldn't have been completely out of character for him to show up on their doorstep.

Angela looked confused when she answered the door, but he explained quickly. The car had broken down; he was visiting his elderly mother who was staying in a care home nearby. _Patrick_ had said he was always welcome to stop by whenever he was in the area. The woman accepted his statements without question and stood to allow Red John into her home.

And he smiled. It was time.


	5. Life and Death

The murder of Patrick Jane's family had sent Lisbon and her team into a tailspin. True to Red John's style, it had happened when she had least expected it to. However, that was all the more reason for her to grow concerned. How the hell was she expected to apprehend a criminal who always appeared to be so many steps ahead of the authorities? All things considered, she was still relatively wet behind the ears. She was new to this game and she knew it.

The more she thought about it, the more she believed that Virgil Minelli had taken a risk too far when it came to giving her, Rigsby and Cho the Red John case. And even if she didn't feel woefully inexperienced, there was still the simple fact of manpower. There was still just the three of them on the team and despite her many meetings with Minelli, it wasn't going to change any time soon. Budgetary restrictions, he claimed. They simply didn't have the money to pay for another agent in the unit. When they proved their worth, when they had something to show for their efforts, then maybe he would be able to justify stretching the little money the CBI had in their direction.

In other words, he wanted her to close cases and a lot of them.

And if she could close Red John? Then that would have been all the better for them.

It was almost getting to the stage where she dreaded coming into work. Everything seemed like a monumental challenge. There were the attitudes of her fellow senior agents; they mocked her at every turn. They told her to quit while she was still ahead, that no woman had ever turned into a great cop. Gaining the respect of the general public seemed twice as hard. The inherent dislike of cops was always a battle ground, and then there was the simple fact she didn't _look_ like a cop either. And none of the cases seemed to fall in their favor.

At the start, Minelli had said something about Patrick Jane being able to consult for the unit. Even that would have been preferable to no help at all. However, since the murder of his wife and daughter he had gone off-radar. It was like he had practically disappeared from the planet, had never really existed in the first place. Now, two months after their deaths, she had pretty much given up hope of him ever returning to the CBI. What was the point if he wouldn't even talk to them about the deaths of his family?

She stared at the case file and scowled. It was a strange one. Nobody needed to explain to her that Red John had gone off-MO for this one. Nor did they need to point out the obvious motive. It had been that damn talk show he'd appeared on, the one which she had watched with her brother and Jackson. Patrick Jane had gone on the show and allowed his ego to be stroked. As a consequence, he'd mouthed off and made a very powerful enemy for himself. Lisbon could easily have imagined Jane being advised to talk about anything but his work with law enforcement. She could even picture him having a meeting with Minelli, with her boss giving him a list of guidelines to adhere to. But because Jane currently wasn't officially tied to their rules, he'd seen fit to play his own game.

And the cost, in Lisbon's honest opinion, had been far too great.

The death of his daughter still haunted her. She was just a girl of six. There had been no need for her to die in such a brutal manner. The glassy eyed stare of the young blonde child still caught her off guard. Death didn't usually affect her quite so much, but Lisbon knew why this one did. It was because it was Red John and because she was _so_ young. Death was still death; the perpetrator had to be found whether the victim was five or ninety five. However whenever children were involved, even Lisbon had to admit that it hit her harder than usual. The need for justice always seemed that little more heightened.

At least she had Jackson to confide in, she figured. As he worked with the CBI, in the PSU, no less, that meant she didn't need to worry about confidentiality quite so much. He knew the basic details about Red John, enough to keep up with her, at any rate. Jack listened with the patience of a saint; he understood how and why she grew so emotionally connected to certain cases. He'd already seen many a cop become especially passionate about solving a specific murder, and particularly those involving children.

Sometimes, he accused her of getting a little too involved in her work. He told her that she needed to detach herself from it, that it would be far better for her in the long run. Lisbon knew that Jack was talking sense, but she simply couldn't help herself. Being passionate about her work was ingrained into her very being. It was something that she knew she couldn't change. Naturally, she had fought back when it came to these accusations, and she'd spent many a night in tears as a consequence. The frustration of work, the annoyance with him, and the emotions coursing through her veins just needed an outlet.

And sometimes, she even thought that her work would drive a wedge between the two of them. That their disagreements, especially on the subject of work, would cause irreparable damage to their relationship. It surprised her just how passionate about it she had become already. And it also surprised her that, somehow, they always managed to piece things back together again.

It was like, she could try and push him as far away as she liked, but he was still coming back to her side, regardless. If that wasn't a sign of love, then she didn't quite know what was.

All she could do was at least try and work on breaking down her barriers. Only then would she be able to give him the relationship that he truly deserved.

xxx

Shortly after he had murdered Patrick Jane's family, Lisbon had accused him of having no conscience.

Of course, she didn't know that she was talking to Red John himself, but that didn't stop the comments from getting under his skin. It didn't stop the incorrigible itch developing in his fingers, the desire to reach out for a knife and show her just how conscienceless he truly was.

As far as Red John was concerned, it wasn't a lack of conscience that was his problem, but that he had too much of one.

He felt – he understood – everything. Having control over life and death itself had given him a deeper understanding of the world surrounding him. Deep down, he had half expected her to understand too. After all, he knew all too well that Lisbon had already had to kill in the line of duty. She knew what it was like to pull the trigger, to end a life. She'd had that level of control over somebody's destiny in the past, even if she hadn't wanted it, hadn't craved it in the way that he did.

But she couldn't extrapolate. Lisbon was bounded by morality, by religion and especially, by the law. Considering just how many shades of gray there were in the world, she still saw things in black and white. Murder was wrong. It had no deeper meaning than that. Oh, there were reasons behind it. Greed, vengeance, jealousy, romantic liaisons. Regardless of the reason, it was still that step too far. All life is sacred, she told him. All life is precious, all life has meaning.

As far as Red John was concerned, there was only one guarantee in everybody's life. From the moment they were born, absolutely everybody was destined to die sooner or later.

All he did was speed up the process.

And there was always a reason behind his killings. It was an education, a learning curve. It taught relatives to understand just how important it was to make the right decision. He showed them that they should always have faith in the right people, and not to trust the 'wrong ones'. That they shouldn't play with things that they didn't truly understand. That you don't know what you had until it was gone. People needed to learn to look after precious things. They needed to nurture relationships while it was still possible. You never knew when they were going to end.

It was just that many of the people he educated learned that lesson when it was too late.

The relatives didn't though. He always saw himself as educating them as much as he was teaching the victim themselves.

Patrick Jane was evidence of that. Unlike Lisbon, he had still managed to keep a close eye on the fake psychic. He knew exactly where he was, not that he was bothering to tell her.

Just because Jane had reacted in such an adverse way, it didn't mean that other people no longer needed educating. That didn't stop them from needing to learn to live, instead of simply existing. Lisbon was right about one thing: life most certainly was a gift.

But Red John knew that far too many people chose to squander it.

Like Lisbon. She had become so fixated on trying to excel at work – to apprehend criminals, himself included – that she had forgotten to live as a consequence. That was one of the many reasons he had selected her as a future victim. But he was playing the long game with her; it was the only way to make the payoff truly worth it.

However, that wasn't enough to quell the itch in his fingers. Whenever somebody crossed his path, whenever they angered him, he had immediately felt the need to teach them a lesson. To remind them that Red John wasn't somebody to be messed with.

But if he did that, he blew his cover.

If he did that, she would know exactly who he was.

And if – somehow – he managed to convince her that he wasn't Red John, then she would still know that he was, at the very least, associated with him.

He couldn't even go after one of her relatives. Any one of her three brothers was a prime target. If he had to choose, then he would probably have selected Tommy. There was something about the bastard that he hadn't particularly liked. It didn't take a mind reader to work out that the feeling had been entirely mutual, either. Oh, he would have loved to wipe that smirk off the man's face.

But he couldn't. He couldn't touch a hair on the head of any one of Teresa Lisbon's relatives. If he did, he knew that she would immediately back away and hide back in her shell. Already, he had spent too long sowing the seeds of this plan to blow it on some reckless behavior out of irritation.

Of course, Lisbon was going to get frustrated with the Red John case. It was the most important one she was in charge of. And of course, she needed to vent to somebody she trusted. The fact she didn't know he was Red John made it all the more ironic.

But even though he couldn't teach her a lesson, directly, that didn't mean that he couldn't do anything.

He didn't have to kill, either. He knew when to stop.

Ruffling up Thomas Lisbon would be more than enough to quench the bloodthirsty monster in his stomach.

For now.


	6. Changes

Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose in attempt to stave off the impending migraine. It had been one of those days: her coffee machine had broken, a criminal had slipped through her fingers, and she'd had an argument with Jack. Of course, some of the things that had gone wrong were minor issues, inconsequential and some less so. However, it didn't stop them from adding up and making her already irritable mood even worse.

When she had gotten the phone call from the hospital, saying that Tommy had been admitted after an accident at work, she was barely surprised. Naturally, instinct kicked in and she had dropped everything in order to rush to his bedside. Just because he was grown and had a kid of his own, it didn't mean he'd stopped needing her help. He was just the kind of person who seemed to require some level of hand-holding through life. Sometimes, her hovering annoyed him, but she couldn't help it. Lisbon felt like she was obliged to help him. It had always been that way, ever since their mother's death. Some instincts were just too hard to fight against.

When she arrived, she was relieved to see that he was conscious and in fairly high spirits, given his current predicament. According to his doctor, Tommy had only suffered from a broken leg and a mild concussion. He'd been lucky that it hadn't been any more serious, considering what had happened to him. As she took to the chair beside his hospital bed, Lisbon let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"And you complain about how dangerous my job is," she chastised lamely. "What the hell happened, Tommy?"

"Reese…" The whine in his voice was unmistakable but that didn't stop Lisbon from narrowing her eyes at him. Regardless of how 'lucky' he'd been, it didn't stop her from needing answers and fast. He was a parent now, he had responsibilities. Tommy couldn't keep doing stupid things now that he had Annabeth to care for. She didn't know how much longer she would be around in order to help him pick up the pieces. After all, her life had grown increasingly busy, especially now that Jackson was on the scene.

"Safety equipment failed," he answered gruffly when he realized she wasn't going to back down. "It wasn't my fault, Reese."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really," he snapped back. "It's the fault of the company who supplied me."

"Are you sure you weren't just using it incorrectly?"

"Why do you always doubt me? Of course I was using it right. And do you know who recommended the bastards who did this to me?"

"Oh, do enlighten me," she replied dryly, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Jackson Roberts."

Half of Lisbon was stunned, but the rest was furious. Not with Jackson, of course not, but with her brother. She sincerely doubted that Tommy had even been talking to him at all lately. The two had never gotten on, not even since they met for the first time three months ago. Lisbon had tried to help them get beyond their differences and she had known that Jackson had offered several olive branches in return, but Tommy just remained as stubborn as a mule.

"Please," she scoffed, annoyed at his refusal to see any good in Jackson. "How the hell was he meant to know that they'd supply you with faulty goods?"

"I don't know, but there's something weird about him. I don't trust him."

"Tommy, you've had it in for him since you first met him. He's a nice guy; why can't you just get over it?"

"But-"

"Look," she said and placed a hand over his. "I did background checks on him. You know I always do that, ever since…"

She stopped and trailed off slightly. Lisbon didn't want to go back there. Her first boyfriend, the one before Greg, had turned out to be a nasty piece of work. He'd been older than her, suave, charming and allowed her to escape from the misery of her family. Unfortunately, he had also been looking to use her for the very reasons she had come to him. In what had been a whirlwind affair, the man had tried to steal her away from her family when they needed her most. When she had realized what was going on she was lucky. If she'd left it any longer, it would have been too late. Ultimately, it had been him who had confirmed her decision to become a cop.

And ultimately, he had been the reason she had never been that successful at dating.

Until now.

"Reese…"

"And he works with me, at the CBI. Do you honestly believe they would hire somebody that untrustworthy?"

Tommy glanced away, but Lisbon could read all that she needed to in his expression. Eventually, she gave up talking and instead stood to leave. He was going to be fine; she knew that Annabeth was being cared for by her maternal grandparents. There was nothing more she could do at this specific moment in time. And besides, this was an argument they could save for later. Right now, Tommy needed rest and relaxation. By fighting about her choice in life partner, he was doing neither.

"I'm going now. Call me if you need anything."

"Yes, Reese."

"Look after yourself."

He nodded in response.

"And don't get into too much trouble."

"Yes, _mom_."

She walked to the door and slowly went to push it open. Before she exited, she turned on her heels to face him once more.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah."

"I love you."

xxx

Red John found himself pacing around the lounge, waiting for Lisbon to return. He'd known where she was going, that much was obvious. After all, it had been his plan that had sent her running for the hospital in a mad rush. It had taken him three months to get his petty revenge, but these things needed planning and now he was feeling… better. He felt less murderous, less angry and more at peace with himself than he had done so for a long while. Part of him didn't like leaving his lessons for people for so long, but this one had required specific care and attention. In a way, it was a shame that Lisbon would probably never know the real reason why Tommy had had his accident.

But it didn't matter, not really. The man was obnoxious and irritating. He deserved to suffer a little bit, regardless of whether or not it was at his sister's expense. There was something about Thomas Lisbon that sent Red John's nerves on edge. The way he looked at him, it was almost as if he could see through the façade and work out his true meanings. Not many people could do that.

In fact, the only other living person who had been capable of doing so was currently locked away in a mental institution.

The door finally clicked open and Red John swiftly closed the manila file he'd been looking at. It may have looked like a work file, but that had just been a cover. He knew that it was the safest way to keep it out of (Lisbon's) prying eyes. She understood about confidentiality and that was why she never pried into cases that weren't her own. As he placed it back in his bag, he put on his game face, the one that was warm and welcoming. Red John may have known what had happened to Lisbon's brother, but Jackson Roberts most certainly did not.

"Hey, you," he said warmly, invitingly. "You're late."

"Didn't you get my message?" she asked, with a frown.

He shook his head, lying. Lisbon rolled her eyes and flopped onto his couch, clearly in an irritable mood. Briefly, he heard her whisper 'typical' underneath her breath. Red John disappeared out of the lounge and into the kitchen. Quickly, he returned with a coffee and she smiled appreciatively. His lips curled up in response, matching her expression. Hours ago, he'd known that this would be something she needed when she got to his place, before even she had realized it herself. And that was the beauty in this trick; he was always running two steps ahead of her.

"It's been one of those days," she eventually explained.

"What happened?"

She explained and he only half-listened. He knew most of the story at any rate. Instead, as he prepared their dinner, Red John nodded in all the right places, added his own insight into her day here and there and she seemed appeased. It wasn't often that Teresa Lisbon needed to let go and just talk like this, but when she did, he acted as if he had the patience of a saint. He'd known from the offset that Lisbon wasn't much of a talker, that she didn't feel the need to share her life story with anyone and everyone. She kept her cards close to her chest; it was only when she truly felt comfortable with somebody else that she opened up. This outburst, he considered, was testament to just how close she was getting to him and just how much she trusted him.

At this point, he normally considered his victims to be 'nearly ready'. However, with Lisbon, he felt the desperate urge to get deeper still. She wasn't worth wasting on a normal murder, not like the others. He'd always known that there was something special about her. The closer she got to him, the more trusting she became, the more he felt vindicated by his decision.

They ate in silence, with just some radio station playing jazz music filling in as background noise. She looked tired, but that was hardly surprising. Instead, Red John considered the words she had said prior to their evening meal. Her work issues, they were just something that occasionally happened in the line of duty and they both knew it. After she'd said it had broken, Red John had already promised to replace her coffee machine as soon as feasibly possible. They weren't the main issues that had caught his attention. He'd been right about Tommy acting suspiciously around him. Lisbon was annoyed that her brother was still refusing to see any positives in him.

He wasn't exactly about to say that Tommy had a good reason not to trust him.

A smile played on his lips as his future plans flashed before his eyes. Lisbon's death at his hands wouldn't just be a betrayal of trust between the two of them. It would also be damaging for Tommy, who had never liked Lisbon's career, who had never liked him. Things couldn't have played out much better than this.

After they'd put aside all the washing up, Red John whisked Lisbon into a warm embrace. Slowly, carefully, he placed a kiss on her cheek. His hands skimmed across the collarbone and onto the warm, inviting flesh of her neck. As he closed his eyes, images of the pearls of blood erupting from that alabaster skin filled the forefront of his imagination. Eventually, he moved to nibbling her ear lobe and she sighed in response. Red John could tell that this affection was something she'd needed after 'one of those days' as she'd phrased it so eloquently.

Before he could stop himself, he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear. And then, though it seemed like he had no control over his tongue, the words fell out.

"Move in with me."


	7. Moving Onwards

It didn't take Lisbon long to make a decision whether or not she should move into Jackson's. Despite her brother's reaction to the man, she felt like it was the right thing to do. Even though they both worked at the CBI, in actuality, they didn't see all that much of one another. While he was mostly Sacramento-based, Lisbon found herself being pulled across the whole state, chasing leads to various cases. She knew that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, and if that meant moving in with him, then so be it.

His house was beautiful; he'd inherited it from his parents who, like hers, had died when he was young. She was grateful for the fact that it meant they could live rent-free; the CBI wage wasn't that extensive. In all of her life, she had never been afforded that kind of financial security before. It was also ideally located on the outskirts of Sacramento. At the beginning of their relationship, Lisbon had spent a lot of her free time there anyway. Now, she could call it home.

Except, it wasn't home. Not really. She could still see that it belonged to him and his family; she hadn't been able to put her own stamp in it. Her belongings seemed to be dwarfed by his and there was little she could do about that. Regardless, there were times when she was alone in this old house and she wondered if she truly belonged in it. Part of her hoped that that feeling would dissipate over time. The more cynical side somehow always managed to override that feeling.

The house wasn't the thing that was plaguing her at this specific moment in time, however. In fact, it couldn't really have been much further from her mind. She walked inside, threw aside her purse and jacket in a fit and then slammed the door in frustration. Slowly, she leaned back up against it, her chest heaving. From the moment she had pulled up on the drive, everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours just hit her like a ton of bricks.

It had been another one of those days.

She tried to console herself with the simple fact that the case had been closed. If nothing else, that was some sort of silver lining. It was, after all, what she aimed for with every single case that passed through her hands. According to Virgil Minelli, she had done a good job. Closing this specific case had been of the utmost importance and it set the CBI up in a good light. The senator, whose wife had been brutally murdered in a freak attack, had been most pleased with the outcome, allegedly.

However, all Lisbon could do was think about the costs incurred in doing so. It had been a turbulent case and so much had gone wrong.

And she always loathed it whenever a case ended in a death.

Lisbon may have been representative of the law, but that didn't make her judge, jury and executioner. Except, on rare occasions like this one, when it did.

Several more doors slammed and suddenly, Lisbon found herself wrapped up in a fierce hug. When they parted, she immediately noted the hint of anger in Jackson's eyes and then she remembered. She hadn't called him, told him that she had gotten out of this situation unscathed. That was more than could have been said of Wayne Rigsby. His relative naïveté had landed him in hospital with two broken ribs. Naturally, Lisbon had refused point blank to leave his side until she knew what the prognosis was.

At least he was going to be fine. She knew that it was probably going to take a while, but that didn't matter. Lisbon hadn't lost any of her team that day. Silently, she swore to herself that she never would. She never wanted to be put in the position of telling a cop's loved ones that their son or daughter had passed away in the line of duty. However supposedly honorable it was, it didn't make a blind bit of difference to the family.

"I thought it was you who-" Jackson said, his voice catching on occasion.

"I'm fine," Lisbon muttered automatically in response.

"You always say that."

"No I don't!"

"You should have told me; I was worried."

"I've had other things on my mind."

"Teresa…"

She turned away the moment that he said her name. Lisbon knew what it was like whenever a case went in this direction. Somehow, the news always got back to the headquarters and the gossip mill went into overdrive. Of course, there would have been a lot of misinformation embedded in there, but she had hoped that Jackson would have known enough without her having to go into detail. Just because he didn't work in the field, it didn't mean he couldn't understand what it was like for those who did, did it?

"Don't, just don't," she snapped back irritably.

"Talk to me."

His voice was calming, soothing. However, Lisbon found herself fighting against it. There was something which was just making her stop. This was the first time she had actually had somebody to go home to after a case like this one. Part of her simply didn't know how to react, how to let him in.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I can't if you don't let me try!"

"You – you're just a pencil pusher. You don't know what it's like in the field, making those kinds of decisions…"

For the first time since she had arrived back at his place – at home – he remained wordless. That didn't stop him from staring defiantly at her. Lisbon shook her head sadly as she turned to face the door, coming to the first decision that seemed to make any sense whatsoever.

"I killed a man today; you don't know what that's like. I'm going for a walk, don't wait up."

xxx

He'd known that the perpetrator had died in the case. The Chinese whispers in the offices had said as much. News that a member of the Serious Crimes Unit had been injured had also made its way around the building and he'd panicked. Red John was protective of Lisbon, not just because she was his partner, but his prey as well. As far as he was concerned, nobody else was allowed to touch her. She was his. He hadn't been aware of the fact that Lisbon had been the one to fire the kill shot either. As he watched her disappearing up the street, a smile slowly grew on his face.

He was proud of her.

Then again, anyone would have been. Red John knew that their boss was for certain. After all, a lot of the rumors had been inadvertently started by Minelli himself. But he had to agree with him anyway. Teresa Lisbon was developing into an exceptional agent and a fine team leader. She had good natural instincts, an eye for detail and was a professional through and through. Lisbon knew exactly how to toe the line whenever it came to the law and she got the job done. What more could people have asked of her?

The irony of the fact that she had accused him of not understanding what it was like to take a life was not lost on him. Of course he understood, almost certainly better than most. He had killed more people than she could ever have dreamedof. Red John knew that he had murdered more people than her precious records had indicated that he'd done so. And it wasn't just a case of taking 'innocent' lives, either. He'd relished in it and turned murder into an art form.

And that was the key factor that made Teresa Lisbon the opposite side of his coin.

While she'd loathed what she'd had to do, even though it was in the line of duty, Red John had turned death into a deadly game. One which Lisbon herself didn't even realize she was playing. One which she would only clue into when it was all too late.

Lately, he had been getting a little bored. There was a girl he'd been grooming on the internet in his spare time and whenever Lisbon was away, working on a case. However, this girl was beginning to bore him too and if anything, he believed she was just at the right point now. She was ready to die. If he left it much longer, then he wasn't going to gain any pleasure from her 'untimely' demise. Lisbon moving in with him recently had provided him with a brief distraction and it had changed their dynamics slightly. However, he was still a serial killer through and through. He still dreamed in blood.

Despite all that, he knew that he was in a catch-22 situation. If he killed, then it would have repercussions on Lisbon and her team. They were a particularly small unit already and the past twenty-four hours had already put them a man down. It was going to be hard for just Lisbon and Cho to really get anywhere with their work at this moment in time. And besides, Lisbon was already desolate enough anyway. Half of the fun he garnered from his killings was reveling in her reactions, seeing her grow frantic as she tried to piece everything together and found out that nothing worked.

But if he didn't…

Red John shook his head. No, Gemma wasn't clever enough to work out his identity. That was half the reason he'd chosen her. She was a piece of fluff, a bit of fun, some easy prey. She was never meant to be a challenge. It was fine for him to keep dragging her along. Gemma could wait until Lisbon was truly ready to have another Red John case land on her lap.

Then, there would be fun and games.

He glanced at an old picture of his mom and dad, one which still adorned the mantelpiece above the fireplace. It was from early in their courtship, shortly after they had gotten engaged. Red John stood to observe it. Like many of his parents' property, he had inherited his mother's old engagement ring. It was in its box upstairs in the study. Theoretically, he could have gotten rid of it. Pawned it in for money, or something, but that wasn't something he'd ever needed.

Now, he decided, it would provide another purpose. Red John knew that Lisbon was prone to relatively long bouts of depression after a bad case. It made her feel like she was a failure at her job, like the men she worked with were secretly judging her for her shortcomings. In reality, most of them were too worried about their own jobs to be doing such a thing. However, if he wanted to quell the incessant itch in his fingers, to feel the silver blade between his fingertips, then he would have to hurry along this mood of hers.

And his mom did look so happy in that picture…

Red John knew that Lisbon had been a relative lone wolf for a long while, but he also suspected that was more out of necessity than design. If anything, she held family close to her heart. However much trouble her younger brothers caused her, she was still waiting patiently there for them. And, though it was deeply buried, she most certainly did have a romantic streak in her.

What could cheer her up more than a request for her hand in marriage?


	8. Balance

Lisbon stared at Jackson in a stunned silence. He was on one knee and looking up at her with the most hopeful expression she had ever seen on his face. She had only briefly taken the opportunity to look at the ring clasped between his two hands. From what she could see, it was simple and beautiful. If she were to pick out her own engagement ring, it was the kind of thing she would have chosen. However, she still couldn't bring herself to give him an answer. This was so unexpected that she was still struggling to comprehend that it was happening at all.

A marriage proposal had been virtually the last thing on her mind.

It didn't matter that they had been in a steady relationship for eighteen months. Nor did it matter that she had moved in with in. She had still found herself patiently waiting for it to go wrong somewhere along the line. Lisbon had never seen herself as having the good fortune of something going right for her. Except for her career, of course, that was the one thing she could always rely upon.

"Can you at least give me an answer, please?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"You _cannot_ be serious," she whispered in response.

He scrambled up to a standing position, snapping the box shut as he did so. Carefully, he placed a hand on her cheek and smiled weakly. Lisbon stared at her searchingly, trying desperately to work out precisely what was going on in his mind. Jackson seemed disappointed, embarrassed even and justifiably so. Immediately, Lisbon felt the sensation of guilt rushing through her system. She felt like she should have known what was going on when he'd grown more secretive than usual. In a way, she blamed herself for not expecting him to propose sooner or later, instead of always assuming the worst was going to inevitably happen.

Then again, there was no reason for him to feel shame, or at least, not yet. She still hadn't exactly given him a direct answer to his question. However, when considering what she had said, it was hardly surprising that he was acting so dejectedly. It wasn't the most promising of answers she could have given him to that very specific question.

"Jack…"

"No, it's okay, I get it," he answered back, with a hollow tone.

She shook her head furiously before kissing him with fervor. Jackson responded briefly, but quickly pulled away from her embrace. Lisbon wished that she could disappear in that instant. The only thing that made the situation marginally more bearable was the simple fact that he had had the common sense to ask her to marry him in the privacy of their own home. At least she wasn't causing a commotion in a public place and embarrassing them both as a consequence.

"I've never really thought about marriage before. It's just…"

Lisbon trailed off lamely. How could she explain just why it had never been something she had actively strived for. So many of her childhood friends had gotten married young and since divorced. She'd watched as other people moved on with their personal life and yet, she had never felt the desire to do so for herself. She knew that it was partially due to the fact she was so career-driven. Her work schedule generally wasn't conducive to relationships for a start. Then there was the fact that many men found her career too intimidating to be something more than a quick, cheap thrill. The only reason Jackson understood was because he was in the business himself. Then, there were the more deep-rooted issues associated with marriage. Her solitary nature, the premature deaths of her parents, the fear of leaving her theoretical children in the same position as she had been…

"Something you never felt the need to consider?" he eventually finished for her.

She nodded, relieved that he had supplied her with a suitable answer. Gently, he gave her a peck on the cheek before smiling briefly at her again. Now, she felt a strange sense of relief. For an instant, she had believed that her own negativity had destroyed everything they had worked towards. At least now she knew that it was going to be alright.

"It's okay, Teresa, I understand," Jackson said as he stroked his left hand up and down her arm reassuringly. "There's no rush. Just give it some thought, okay?"

"I don't have to."

And she meant it. If he could be so understanding about her behavior in such a situation, then she felt like she could trust him with something like this. Lisbon grabbed the lapels of his jacket and quickly pulled him in for another kiss and this time, he returned it eagerly. When they finally parted, she found herself breathing heavily and she couldn't stop smiling. She wasn't deliriously happy – not quite – if anything, she was full of mixed emotions. After all, this was a strange new frontier for her; this was something she had never expected to happen to her, of all people.

Now, she had to completely reassess her feelings about the future, because now, she was going to be sharing the rest of her life with somebody else. There were far bigger and more important decisions that had to be made in the future, ones that she could never have dreamed of two years ago. Lisbon had known that her life would change completely when she joined the CBI, but she never imagined it would be like this.

Still, as he slipped the engagement ring over her finger, and whispered that it had belonged to his mother, she couldn't help but finally feel a sense of peace.

This was the right decision, she told herself. Everything was going to be fine.

xxx

Once Lisbon had come around to the idea of marriage, Red John was surprised at just how eagerly she thrust herself into the position of being a fiancée. Admittedly, he was the one pushing for it more, but she was still more than happy to assist with the preparations whenever possible. It pleased him immeasurably; he enjoyed seeing her so full of life and so content. In a way, it felt like the upcoming wedding had breathed fresh air into both their lives and it was something that was needed.

What surprised him even more than Lisbon's enthusiasm was his own.

He'd always imagined that, by the time he got to this point in the relationship, he would be ready to kill her. To slice open her throat and watch the life slowly but surely bleed away from her. Red John had been in this position before; he'd wooed women, made them expect a proposal, only to snatch away their lives instead of presenting them with a ring.

Mentally, he had to remind himself that Teresa Lisbon wasn't any old woman though. In fact, the utter shock at the proposal had been evidence that she had never expected anybody to grow that close to her at all.

Even though he was rushed off of his feet with the preparations for the wedding, he still found the time to murder the girl he had been grooming online. Despite the fact they hadn't even met in the flesh, she had grown increasingly clingy and increasingly more annoying as a consequence. Red John, naturally, relished in the task in hand; it felt like it was long overdue. Still, he hadn't been able to do it further. His thoughts about Lisbon had simply stopped him in his tracks.

Naturally, he noticed the repercussions of his latest kill almost immediately. When Lisbon had gotten the call at three a.m. he had rolled over and gone straight back to sleep. Being disturbed in the middle of the night due to her receiving new cases had become routine. Just because he worked a nine to five job within the CBI, it didn't mean that she did too. However, he didn't see Lisbon for another twenty-one hours straight; he didn't even get the opportunity to speak to her in that time. When she finally stumbled into their home, she looked shattered and withdrawn.

"It was Red John," she muttered sadly and then, a twinge of guilt spasmed through him. " _Why_ does he do it? What's his motive?"

He enveloped her into a tight hug and didn't let go for several minutes. Gently, he stroked the back of her head and silently ignored the stray tears that were rolling down her cheeks. He knew that her self-pride would never forgive him if he had dared to point it out. For once, the only things that were on his mind were comforting her, supporting her and making sure she realized that not only was she good at her job, but she was a good person through and through.

"I wish I could answer that for you," he muttered.

Technically, he could. However, part of him meant that statement wholeheartedly. But, by describing his desperate urge for control and blood and by explaining his motives, he would have been confessing to her, an officer of the law, that he was Red John. Equally though, he didn't quite know how to explain precisely why he felt the need to behave in the way that he did. And if he couldn't put it into words himself, then who could? So, pretending not to know the answer wasn't entirely a white lie. Late at night, when she had finally drifted off into a restless sleep, that was what he told himself and Red John drew a little comfort from that. After all, how else was he meant to settle his soul?

Slowly, she managed to pull herself back together again. Once she had put the Red John case to rest for now and closed a couple of other key cases instead, he found himself almost bursting with pride. It did a wonderful job at rebuilding her battered confidence. Every time he killed, Lisbon always punished herself for not succeeding in apprehending the 'monster' that was Red John. As Minelli had stressed the importance of the Red John case to her repeatedly, Lisbon had grown all the more fixated on it. Despite making other big busts, she thought of it as her career-maker. The one which would mean she would garner the utmost respect of her co-workers.

And it would have been so easy for him to give her that all-important lead. Or to simply stop killing.

But then, the devil on his shoulder continually said otherwise.

In time, the wedding was back on track. Red John found a surprising amount of peace in his life; something he had never really felt before. Despite marriage being a supposedly stressful time, he truly felt contented for the first time while making these strange new plans for the future. However, a tiny voice in his head kept saying that this was wrong; this woman was meant to be a future target, not his future wife. She was meant to be the most audacious of his murders, to be precise.

Instead, he found himself wondering when all of his plans had suddenly changed. He wondered why he no longer had the same urge to kill Lisbon specifically. The bloodthirstiness for other people remained, but just not her. With Lisbon, it had almost died away completely, like the final moments in any one of his victims' lives. As he watched her walk up the aisle towards him, he questioned whether what he was feeling was truly love.

And if it was, when, precisely, had he fallen in love with Teresa Lisbon?


	9. Closer

The honeymoon was beautiful.

They stayed in Mexico and it was Lisbon's first visit to the country, despite having lived in California for over a decade. The hotel was so luxurious that Lisbon could scarcely believe they could afford it; Jackson had been the one to book it though. He'd insisted upon spoiling her for the honeymoon and who was she to say no? Lightly, she pressed him for more information. She wanted to know where he had gotten the funds for it, but he remained stubbornly tight-lipped. Naturally, her intrigue was piqued, but she cast her concerns to one side at the time. There was nothing she could have done about it; she had no resources to investigate so, instead, she decided to simply enjoy herself until she could.

As she fired up her computer at work for the first time in three weeks, she told herself that she trusted him. She wasn't checking up behind Jackson's back and he had given her no reason to distrust him. Lisbon knew that he was as secretive as she was inherently a loner; they were just issues that they had to work through together. Some days, it was easier and then on other occasions, they just fell back into old habits. Still, all she was doing was checking that the money hadn't come from a shady source. She didn't really believe that it did, but the small 'what if' in the back of her mind insisted upon being answered.

Her search was quickly rewarded, but that didn't surprise her. For Lisbon, these kinds of background checks were child's play. She'd done one on Jackson earlier in their relationship, before they had gotten serious about one another. However, Lisbon knew from experience that information in background checks could change in the blink of an eye.

From what she had discovered, he had transferred money out of a bank account belonging to a company named 'J.R. Solutions'.This didn't faze her; she had already known that he ran a small company in his spare time. Computing was his specialty both in the workplace and at home. She'd watched as he provided simple solutions to computer issues for those willing to pay for them. The website he'd set up alongside it confirmed everything that Jackson had already told her. Still, Lisbon's frown deepened. She knew that the money he made from his company provided them with a nice little nest egg, in case of emergencies. However, she hadn't known that he was doing so well at it that he could afford to pay for such a spectacular honeymoon. After all, apart from the odd business meeting which he had taken time off work for, he barely seemed to spend any time on it.

She shook her head violently and closed down the pages promptly. Then she turned her attention to her overflowing inbox. There was no way she could justify wasting precious work time investigating her husband – somebody she claimed to trust implicitly – when she had so much to do. Rigsby and Cho had been very busy while she had been away. They had even managed to close a couple of the more minor cases in that time. They were welcome back presents, they had claimed; she hadn't told either of them that she had gotten married, they were her coworkers and subordinates and she had to keep that line of professionalism between her and them. However, each case generated its own paperwork and that was something she still had to deal with.

And of course, although they had closed those cases, new ones had promptly opened in their place. People could never seem to take a break from killing one another, especially if a cop decided to take some time off.

The one reprieve, she decided was the fact that Red John had remained quiet of late. He hadn't killed for several months and that could only mean good things. However, that also meant they were no closer to apprehending him, too. Still, given the choice between another person losing their life to Red John and another family being destroyed by him as a consequence or stubborn silence on that front, she knew which she'd prefer each and every time. Though it hadn't been murder, merely a car accident, Lisbon knew just how painful it was waiting for answers that would never come. They never caught the hit-and-run driver who had stolen her mother's life.

Work went pretty quickly. The only big thing to happen was the fact that Minelli had scheduled a meeting in the upcoming days between them. And not just any old meeting either, but her annual review. Lisbon's heart sank; however well she got along with Minelli, she still loathed those reviews as much as the next person. She understood the necessity, but that didn't cut down on the stress of it all. That was probably the last thing she needed to return back to. However, she did have some questions for him. The workload she had returned to seemed very excessive for just the three people, especially when Major Crimes filled a similar remit to her unit. More work wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing, it showed that Minelli trusted her and her team, but she did need more manpower if she was going to treat each case in the way she wanted to.

Despite it being a relatively quiet day and a good one to ease herself back into the working routine, Lisbon was glad to go home. Jackson had stopped working at the CBI in favor of focusing on his business, something she couldn't blame him for, but she had still missed knowing he was around. On the drive home, she dropped by the local grocery store to pick up some essentials and a bottle of wine for dinner. She'd promised Jackson she would cook and she knew that it would go well with what she had planned. When she pulled up, he didn't meet her by the car, as he often did when she finished work later than he did, but she tried not to show that it bothered her. Instead, she headed straight inside, groceries in hand.

When she saw a note pinned to the fridge, saying that he had had to rush to an important meeting and wouldn't be back for a week, her heart sank. That wasn't what she had wanted to return home to.

xxx

Carefully, he dipped his gloved fingers into the warm blood of his latest victim. Red John took a few steps up to the appropriate wall before drawing his calling card on top of the mirror. Once he had finished, he took a step back and admired his handiwork. Then, he gave his latest victim one last passing glance before heading out.

It was three a.m.; if he hung around much longer, he knew that Gemma Appleby's husband would catch him in the act and that would never do. Red John knew how much of a risk he was taking by killing Gemma – technically, it was off M.O. because he had been paid to do it – but he hadn't been able to say no. Only recently had he taken to acting as a hit man. Sourcing out victims was sometimes a laborious task; if he could be handed them on a silver platter, then it was all the more fun for him. After all, it meant he had to think out of the box when it came to ensnaring them and preparing for the kill. Besides, how many other people could claim that their job was also their hobby? He'd taken pleasure in killing Gemma; she was the kind of woman he preyed upon naturally. However, Red John knew that he would never have found her without the intervention of another man.

As he drove back to the dingy motel he was staying at, he found his mind considering questions he hadn't had the chance to think about earlier. When he'd accepted the challenge, all he thought about was how, where and when to do it. At the time, he had been so busy preparing for his upcoming nuptials that he hadn't had a chance to think about anything else. Red John understood why his business partner (as he liked to think of the man) wanted Gemma dead, but why hadn't he dealt with the issue himself? Then again, so many people were squeamish and unable to deal with their own mistakes. Instead, they passed them off onto other people and let them pick up the pieces. He couldn't complain though; he was profiting from this murder and it had been so long since he had last killed somebody.

As he locked his car and headed into his room, he began to think of his wife. He'd left her a brief note to tell her he was away on business, and he felt a touch guilty about not letting her know in the flesh. After all, sooner or later, she would be arriving at the Appleby family home to take a look at his handiwork. Unlike him, who saw it as a work of art, she would only see the grotesque nature of his job. Her Catholic upbringing would probably lead her to uttering a quiet prayer for Gemma and her family. Then, she would go about her job, trying desperately to find the woman's killer.

But because Red John understood the woman who hunted him so well, he knew that Teresa Lisbon wouldn't find any evidence whatsoever. He was too practiced at killing to leave obvious clues. And besides, he knew her mindset and precisely what to avoid when carrying out bloody murder.

Eventually, he headed to bed, but slept restlessly. For a start, he knew he had to be up in a matter of hours in order to carry out the next stage of his plan. Secondly, he found that he missed the warm body of his wife sleeping by his side. During their three week honeymoon in Mexico, he had grown accustomed to her always being there. It was something he had almost began to rely upon. Her presence stopped darker thoughts from creeping into his mind. In a way, having Lisbon there had stopped him from thinking about what it would be like to kill her. It seemed a little counter-intuitive, but somehow, it still worked for him.

After two hours of tossing and turning, he eventually hauled himself out of bed and back into his car. A half hour drive and he was back at the Appleby residence, just in time to see the husband of the deceased come tearing out, screaming 'murder, murder!' Instinctively, he slammed his breaks on just in time to stop him from hitting the man; his instructions were very clear about that. 'I want the husband to suffer,' the text message had said. 'He's the one who screwed me out of millions of dollars. He worships the ground his wife walks on.' And thus, Gemma had become his fourteenth victim.

Red John climbed out of his car caught hold of the man before he ran away. Tears streamed down his face as he bawled his eyes out. Tempering his features into a concerned expression, Red John asked the man what was wrong and why he was so upset. Wordlessly, Mr. Appleby led him into the home and straight to the master bedroom.

"Red John killed her," the man said in a hollowed voice. "I'm gonna kill him."

"I'll call the police," Red John answered quickly in response. "They'll know what to do."

As he picked up the family phone, he let out a small smile. Little did the man know he had just let the serial killer himself straight back into his home.


	10. Shifts

Lisbon sat patiently beside Minelli's office door, waiting for him to call her inside. Her legs shook as she did so; an autonomous reaction and a sign of her nerves. Despite having been employed by the CBI for over three years now, she still loathed these yearly evaluations. Just because Minelli had never judged her performance harshly, it didn't mean he never would. Especially as she had been somewhat distracted of late, what with her recent wedding.

In reality, she knew that she was doing fine, excepting one very specific case. The demon of Red John still cast gloomy shadows over her and thus, she judged her performance as a whole more harshly. Words couldn't express just how desperately she wanted Red John in her custody. He had killed so many people and he continued to do so on a semi-regular basis. Gemma Appleby was just the most recent in a long string of deaths. Justice had to be served.

This time last year, she had spoken to Jackson and he'd chastised her for overreacting. However, a recent change in company protocol had indicated that one of them needed to leave. Lisbon suspected that they were the ones to trigger the decision, and she was angry at herself for it. Graciously, though, Jackson had decided that her career was far more important than this. Besides, his company was expanding at an exponential rate and the redundancy money would give him extra money to invest in it. As far as he was concerned, it was win/win. He got to focus on his company full time and she would get to continue to bloom and grow as a fine agent within the CBI.

Lisbon shook her head in attempt to clear her mind. She twisted the rings on her finger cautiously before slipping them off. Due to an irrational fear of losing them during fieldwork, she generally left them at home, but in her distracted state that morning, she had forgotten to take them off. With a sigh, she placed them in her jacket pocket and stood up. Minelli had just indicated that he was ready for her.

Her boss smiled warmly and motioned towards the seat opposite him. Lisbon found that she was still shaking like a leaf as she perched on it. Minelli noticed almost immediately and quickly offered her a cup of coffee. They both knew that regular meetings with him didn't set her so on edge. The only reason she was acting in such a way was because it was her yearly evaluation.

Once she had begun to regain her senses, Minelli started to cover what he needed to. Both her attendance and performance remained excellent, though she had already used most of her vacation days for the year. Still, she remained dedicated to her career. Even the distraction of a new husband hadn't changed that. Lisbon assured him that that would remain the case, going as far as to tell him that she and Jackson had already decided against having a family. As far as Lisbon was concerned, she'd already been there with her brothers and it wasn't something she wanted to face again, however much she loved her nieces and nephews.

When he informed her that he was especially pleased with the team's performance, Lisbon wasn't surprised. She had already seen that he had started to assign the Serious Crimes Unit more cases during her vacation time. It was then that she seized the opportunity to ask him about the ratio of cases to people working on them and he smiled broadly.

"We have just started advertising for a new junior position," Minelli assured her quickly. "I'm sure you will be able to train up a new rookie effectively."

"Yes, boss," she said, nodding firmly as she did so. "I look forward to the new challenge. Is that all?"

"Not quite," he replied and her frown deepened. "There is no need for you to be so nervous during these evaluations, Teresa. Believe me, if there ever was a problem, we would deal with it far quicker than this. Not that I ever anticipate _you_ causing me problems. This is just procedure."

She nodded and apologized once again for her demeanor during the evaluation. Deep down, she had always known what Minelli had said, but it did help her to hear him say it. Then again, as her career was so important to her, she figured that her reaction was unsurprising. Her passionate response to the evaluation was indicative of her passion for fighting crime. She always strove to be the best cop she could be and felt the strong need to impress. Minelli's approval was of the utmost importance to her.

"Anything else?" she asked as she stood.

"Yes. We have been approached by a member of the public with certain… skills. He would like to offer his services to the CBI."

"Oh."

There wasn't much more she could say in such a situation. Instead, she simply waited for Minelli to elaborate.

"He will be assigned to your team in a consulting position."

"But I thought you were hiring a rookie for my team?"

"This man has a specific interest in the Red John case. He refused to work with any other team."

Lisbon sat quickly and she racked her brains for anybody who might have had a special interest in the case. Other cops, perhaps. Ones who had touched upon it earlier in their careers and had since retired. Then again, they probably wanted to get away from law enforcement as fast as possible. Relatives of Red John's victims seemed like the next most logical answer. On more than one occasion, she'd heard of family of victims professing the desire to seek revenge. It was ridiculous and foolhardy, but none ever got that close.

And only one of them had anything that could be remotely described as a specific skill. There was one person who lost more than most to Red John. It was the case where Red John had gone wildly off M.O. and shocked everybody within the CBI. That was the reason she remembered this particular person so well. From what Minelli had already said, it also made sense.

"Does this person have a name?"

"Patrick Jane," he answered and her heart sank.

Of course it was going to be him.

xxx

"What are you doing?"

Red John was startled when he saw Lisbon typing furiously at his own personal laptop when he arrived home. She barely glanced up at him, offered a weak smile before returning to her task, not even bothering to answer his question. He needed to get her off the device and fast. This was the one he used to do his business dealings in and if she clicked on the wrong files, then that would have been the end of everything. With his heart racing, he walked behind the couch, stood behind her and slowly started stroking the back of her head. She closed her eyes and hummed a little in response. All too quickly, she regained her senses and returned her attentions to the document in front of her.

"Teresa…"

"A little research," she answered, but didn't turn to face him. "For work."

"Why not use your own computer?"

"Yeah, I'm having problems with it," she said flippantly and he sighed. "D'you think you can fix it for me?"

"I'll see what I can do."

He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head, taking a look at the screen. She was only on the internet, which was safer than any other alternative she could have been using. Unless she decided to take a look at his bookmarked pages, of course and then, that could unravel all manner of secrets. Red John was not as concerned as he was when he'd walked through the door though; when Lisbon got a bit in her teeth, she wasn't one to let go of it. She seemed more than fixated on her current task in hand and that was researching a certain Patrick Jane.

Naturally, Red John knew more than enough about the fake psychic. Ever since he had killed his family, Red John had kept the man on his radar. He'd known about the stint in a mental institution, he'd known that the man had just started to turn his life around in the past six months. He also knew that Jane had sworn revenge. That Jane wanted to cut him open and watch him bleed, the way he had done so to Jane's wife and child.

If the thought hadn't been quite so laughable, then Red John might have been a little bit scared.

However, that didn't explain why his wife was using his computer to research the man in more depth. She was familiar with him, of course. Lisbon knew a little about all the relatives of Red John's previous victims. That didn't explain why she wanted to know more about Patrick Jane at this very specific moment though.

"Patrick Jane?" he asked lightly and she sighed.

"He's going to work with my unit," she admitted and sounded more than a little irritated at the concept. "I need to know what I'm dealing with before he starts."

"Oh."

Red John continued his ministrations, hoping that sooner or later, it would distract Lisbon. He wanted her off the computer as soon as feasibly possible. By the looks of it, she seemed like she had nearly finished her task and he could feel that she was slowly becoming more and more receptive to his touch. Still, he remained as fixated on her as she was on the outdated and inaccurate webpage on Patrick Jane. It wasn't until she shut down the device and turned around on her knees to face him that he breathed a sigh of relief.

She grabbed his jacket by the lapels and pulled him down for a crushing kiss. Red John reciprocated it eagerly and soon found his fingers running through her hair again. He liked what she had done with it, it was different, new. If she kept it in this style, then he knew he would find himself having quite the fetish over it. However, her silky hair didn't entirely distract him from her devilish tongue. People may have called him a monster, but Lisbon could be quite the evil, teasing thing as well. It was just that most people didn't get to see that very specific side of her.

When she pulled away, he pouted. All thoughts of her finding out his true identity had been completely eradicated from his mind. Now, all he wanted to do was take her up to the bedroom, strip her of her clothing slowly and carefully and tease her body until she was screaming out his name for more. Now, he decided that was preferable to having her screaming out in fear, with her blood dripping from his hands. One day, he knew that he would get bored of the monotony of married life and then, he would set his plans back in motion. For now, he was having too much fun with her living by his side. Lisbon, however, smiled a wicked grin before she hopped off the couch and started heading towards the kitchen.

"I was thinking of making pasta for dinner, what do you think?"

He hurried to catch up with her, encircled one wrist with his hand to stop her from moving away. Lisbon turned on her heels, cocked her head to one side and waited for him to answer. The look in her eyes suggested that she knew precisely what he was going to say next, but he didn't let that stop him.

"I'd rather have _you_ ," he answered coyly.

The wicked grin returned to her features once more and she happily followed him as he led her upstairs.

A cop and a serial killer, they were an odd couple. But somehow, he knew that it worked.


	11. Suspicions and Lies

Lisbon didn't bother to tell Patrick Jane that she was married.

What was the point? From what she knew about him already, she knew he would somehow be able to use it as leverage against her. Everything he did, there seemed to be an agenda behind it. Even the simple fact he was working for the CBI had a reason behind it. If her team wasn't running the Red John case, then she would never have been introduced to him. He would have had no interest in working underneath her, nor in any of the other cases. His motive for solving them was to simply stay with the team, in order to seek more information on Red John. It was clear there was only one motive for his association and that was revenge.

Even so, as days changed to weeks and weeks to months, Lisbon gradually found herself enjoying his company more and more. There was something about his presence which lightened the atmosphere and made work all the more enjoyable. Even though she couldn't always say that she agreed with his methodology, Lisbon knew that he took his work deadly seriously. He knew what it was like to live without answers; he had been in the same position as many of the grieving relatives they came across. In fact, he was practically stuck in limbo because of it.

Grace Van Pelt, the new rookie who had been hired to join the team, was also developing nicely. She was a little highly-strung and a little too eager to please, but generally she had slotted in well. Cases came and went and the closed case record of the unit improved greatly. Of course, the number of complaints due to Jane's behavior also increased, but there was always a price to play. Generally, Lisbon found she was at her happiest at work for a long while. It felt good to have some company she felt close to, especially since Jackson had left the CBI.

The only thing that marred the mood was the fact that Red John was still out there, somewhere. Since Jane had joined, the serial killer had struck twice and each time she had watched the openly fake psychic go completely off the rails. There was nothing she could do to control him during those times; it was like he was blinkered and only focused on one thing only. She understood his desperation; she felt it too, albeit for different reasons. As far as she was concerned, Red John was her greatest failure.

As well as things were going at work, sometimes it felt like she was having the opposite problem at home. Jackson seemed to be spending an increasing amount of time away from home and whenever she saw him, things seemed a little more fractious than before. She was entirely open with him about her chaste relationship with Patrick Jane, but he seemed to approve of the man even less than he did Tommy. Every time they covered the subject, he found something damning to say about him. Jackson even went as far as to say that he was corrupting her, that she didn't seem like the cop he'd met when she'd first joined the CBI.

Those callous accusations were the ones that hurt the most. She always tried to rationalize them; he didn't work for the CBI anymore, he didn't know how well her team was doing it. Clearly, he had a reason to be so distrustful of Patrick Jane.

But why?

As far as she knew, the two men had never met. Certainly, she had never dared to introduce them. Lisbon had a feeling that if she did, it would be a complete and utter disaster. The two men were like chalk and cheese. Sure, they shared a few characteristics – they were both charming and charismatic for a start – but that didn't mean they'd get along like a house on fire. Instead, she was fairly certain that they would spontaneously combust if they ever were to interact.

And that was where her suspicions lay. The secrecy was beginning to drag her down. He'd even taken to hiding things, like his laptop and keys, specifically so she couldn't use them. Whenever she lightly questioned him about his company, he cast her queries aside as if they didn't matter, tried to distract her or simply ignored her. She hated the half-truths he was telling her, the things that he was not. Lisbon wondered whether or not she was just reading too much into things. However, she also wondered if it was just Patrick Jane rubbing off on her. Regardless, it was becoming an incessant itch that she couldn't scratch. There _had_ to be more behind her disconcertion than she actually thought.

One day, when he disappeared off on yet another one of his mysterious 'business trips', she took it upon herself to investigate. When she was sure that he had gone, she crept down to the cellar, a place which she never bothered to go. Jackson had claimed that he had made it into his office, of sorts, and that there was nothing of interest to her down there. Naturally, she had respected his privacy and allowed him to get on with whatever he did down there.

Until now.

The steps creaked as she made her way down into the cellar. She shivered; despite it being his 'office', he hadn't bothered with heating down here. Slowly, Lisbon made her way around the room, eyeing each piece of furniture one by one. There was nothing that particularly caught her eye, nothing seemed like it could technically be out of place. Except for the freezer unit, that was. Why the hell would he need one of them in an _office_?

Just as her fingers touched it, she heard footsteps approaching. Silently, Lisbon cursed at herself and she scanned the room for a suitable place to hide. Only a couch seemed to offer her any chance of being hidden, so she immediately dove behind it.

She froze, hidden behind an old leather couch, willing him not to come any closer. Lisbon held her breath, but swore that Jackson could probably tell where she was just by how loud her heartbeat alone seemed. With eagle eyes, she watched as he moved over to the safe, opened it quickly with gloved hands and withdrew a single knife blade.

When he left, she let out the breath she had been holding.

That didn't stop her mind from racing, however.

xxx

It felt like a blessed relief to escape from the house.

Ever since Patrick Jane had been back on the scene, Red John had grown more than a little nervous. The man may not have been a psychic, but he still knew how to read people. And Jane had clearly made it his mission to know as much as possible about him. Once, he had laughed at the foolhardy claims of revenge, but now he wasn't so sure. There had always been something quite cold and calculating about the man; he wouldn't put murder past him. If he worked out who he was, of course.

And he had been changing his Lisbon. In small, subtle ways, which even Lisbon herself hadn't been able to notice. Of course, Red John had known immediately. There was nobody who knew his wife better than him and for good reason.

Part of him was beginning to wonder if this was the beginning of the end. Red John had always imagined that he was in total control of his relationship with Lisbon. He'd decided that he would carry out his plans when he grew bored of her, when their relationship no longer provided him with a spark. And the spark had begun to dim, that he was certain. The screaming matches they shared showed the cracks that were beginning to appear.

However, even though she had stopped providing him with such an interest at home, she did provide a new spark elsewhere. Since Jane had rediscovered some of his health and vitality, Red John had begun molding him into the perfect nemesis. The fact that he had been partnered up with his wife in the workplace both intrigued and horrified Red John. He hated the way that Jane was pulling her away from him. But she seemed to offer him something, and he wasn't entirely sure what. Whenever he questioned Lisbon about Jane, she always denied everything. She claimed that their relationship was entirely platonic and that there was nothing going on between them. He was just a friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That wasn't what his spies and allies within the CBI told him, however.

If they were to be believed, there was a certain chemistry between the pair. Whether or not they acted upon it was another matter. They hadn't shown signs that they were, but that didn't mean they weren't being discreet about it.

From his own observations, Red John could see that Patrick Jane was beginning to rely more and more heavily upon his wife for comfort, and maybe even more. When he had first been released from the mental institution, Jane had seemed fine, but Red John was the master of masquerades. It was clear that there were flaws between the lines and that he wasn't quite as healthy as he purported to be.

The closer that Jane and Lisbon got, then the harder that Jane would fall after her death. Especially when he discovered that the same man to kill his family had brutally murdered the petite senior agent.

And then, they would be thrust together. The serial killer and his nemesis, united in supposed grief. The husband and the lover, both grieving for a woman lost.

It was almost poetic.

No, it was _perfect_.

In that moment, he decided that Lisbon could live to see another day. It wasn't as if he didn't have another murder planned for that very night, after all. His hold-all sat neatly by his side, containing everything he needed: leather gloves, protective clothing, his mask and his trusted silver knife.

The knife.

He cursed silently as he realized he'd left it behind. Theoretically, he could have just bought another one, but as far as he was concerned, that one was special. It was the one he'd used for each and every one of his murders to date. Red John had style and tradition and he simply wasn't going to sacrifice either of them. It may have meant a slight delay, but he'd left early in case of delays anyway. Rolling his eyes, he promptly turned his car around and drove straight back home.

The house was quiet when he walked back in. Though her car was still parked on the driveway, Lisbon was nowhere to be seen. Figuring she must have gone for a walk or something, he headed straight to the staircase leading to his cellar. This was his private sanctuary, his inner sanctum. Lisbon managed to respect that he deserved some privacy in at least one room, and she never bothered to enter it. If she did, then she would have some interesting surprises to say the least. Though none of his equipment was in full view, it didn't take much rummaging to find any of it.

Still, he almost liked the danger. He enjoyed knowing that a cop – and not just any cop, the one who was investigating the Red John murders – lived above his prep room. Besides, if he didn't run risks, what was the point in him doing what he did at all?

Humming to himself, he promptly went and unlocked his safe. Holding it up to the light filtering from the small window, Red John smiled at his silver blade.

Little did he know, that less than five feet away, Lisbon was watching his every move.


	12. Developments

"Jane? A word?" Lisbon said nervously, before adding, "In private?"

Lisbon had been toying with the idea of not telling Jane, but in the end, she didn't know who else she could trust. While his methods were sometimes a bit reckless, he did have the tact and subtlety needed for certain operations. If she dared to tell Minelli, or even the rest of her team, she knew they would go in all guns blazing. Her life was already at risk; she didn't want to put her team in danger either. And besides, if there was half a chance that she could get out of this situation alive, then she was more than happy to seize it. And though she had fiercely denied it on occasion, she trusted Jane. When it came to solving crimes, even she had to admit that he knew what he was doing.

Besides, Red John was important to him. She knew he would want some involvement in bringing him down. After Jackson had left, she had done a little more investigation work in the cellar. The items he had stored down there, they only matched up to one serial killer. Of course, it had to be the only serial killer case that she was currently involved in. There were some key pieces of evidence that appeared to link Jackson to Red John down there, and Lisbon was hoping and praying that he wouldn't remove them before she had the chance to take him down.

And before she was sure, of course. Her suspicions had major ramifications, regardless of whether or not she was actually right. She couldn't just go and accuse him of multiple murders on something as small as a Jane-like hunch.

She was relieved when Jane merely nodded and followed her without a word into her office. They had been working together for eighteen months now and she believed they finally worked well together. Or at least, she knew when to give him some rope and when he needed to be on a tighter leash. At least now, there were fewer complaints about his work and their closed case record was still on the increase. There was still the Red John issue and that was what worried her the most.

Especially if she was right about Jackson.

He settled on her couch as she snapped the blinds shut. Slowly, Lisbon closed the doors tightly to ensure that they wouldn't be disturbed during this conversation. Only then did she turn to face him.

"I think my husband's a serial killer," she said, without any preamble.

"Oh," he answered, frowning. "Wait, you're married?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "And here was me, thinking that the _serial killer_ part was the more prominent issue," she stated and Jane remained silent. "Yes, I'm married. To a serial killer, I think."

Irritatingly, he didn't have a quick comeback. Normally, Lisbon would have been thrilled to be able to surprise Jane in such a way. Usually, he knew anything and everything about her. Nothing could be kept a secret. The fact that he hadn't even realized she was married surprised her. Lisbon had believed that he would have checked up on the records, or at least her personnel files, in order to get at juicy information like that. Clearly, she had been wrong.

Then again, he had always been open about the fact that Red John was his prime target. Why bother wasting time filling his 'memory palace' as he called it with useless nonsense about her when he had more important things to worry about?

"Who?" he asked when he finally seemed to manage to wrap his head around the fact she was married. "The Caveman? Dr. Valentine?"

"Red John."

"Of course," he sighed and ran a hand through his blond curls.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Lisbon had been dealing with this dilemma, alone, for forty-eight hours. However much they argued, she had still fallen in love with Jackson a long while ago. But she loathed what he did; it stood against everything she believed in. And somehow, he had snuck into the CBI unnoticed and started a relationship with her, of all people. It made her question the very foundations of their relationship. Did he really love her, or had he merely been grooming her as one of his victims?

And if it was the latter, why had he married her instead of just killing her outright?

As for Jane, this was the first major development she had informed him about in the case for a long while. And she could see in his face just how much it hurt. If she had just had an anonymous tip-off about Red John, then he would have been fine, practically itching to make a move. Instead, she had thrown him headfirst into a massive dilemma. Revenge was still something he considered, but however this ended, they both knew Lisbon would have to suffer an inevitable heartbreak.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know," she replied, her voice hollow. "Me too."

After that, she explained everything she knew. Confiding in Jane clarified matters; she knew now that she had to deal with this in the same way as she would any other case. She had to set the ball in motion. Once she had called Rigsby and Cho into her office, she explained the situation to them. Thankfully, they didn't ask too many questions, though Lisbon could tell they were desperate to do so. Quickly, she handed over her set of house keys to Cho and insisted they searched her cellar. Rigsby noted down everything she believed was of interest and then, she turned to face Jane.

"I brought his laptop with me."

"And?"

"I think he's planning to kill somebody. Soon."

"You saw him leave with a knife in hand?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Van Pelt should be able to get into the encrypted data and-"

She was cut off by the ring of her phone. Leaning over to her desk, Lisbon pressed the receiver to her ear. Somehow, she almost expected the words that she heard the Assistant District Attorney say to her and her heart sank into the pits of her stomach.

"Red John has struck again."

xxx

Ordinarily, Red John only killed at night.

Between the hours of two and three a.m. was generally his preference. It allowed for long enough to let his victim fall asleep, but also enough time for him to make his escape afterwards. Usually, he would bind them with duct tape and only rouse them once the blade of his knife was pressed firmly against their neck. Red John never killed for sexual gratification; he didn't find murder erotic by any stretch of the imagination. Instead, he always sought for the higher meaning in what he did. Watching his victim's perilous balance on the precipice between life and death was the core aspect which he found thrilling.

Seeing his victims realize they were about to go tumbling over the cliff-side, that they were about to die was the most exciting part of it all.

This time, however, he had carried out the deed in broad daylight. It lacked the atmospheric lighting, and the appeal, but it also carried a little more risk of being caught. His customer had been very specific about that though. After all, three in the afternoon was not too dissimilar to three in the morning for a night shift worker.

Red John was almost sorry to see this victim go. She had a sweet soul – almost too sweet for his tastes – and her only crime had been aborting her husband's sick baby. But a job was a job; they came along too irregularly for him to complain about the detailing. He was being paid handsomely regardless of if his victim was entirely innocent or secretly a mass-murderer.

Before she had died, fear had paralyzed her. She blinked her doe eyes at him, whispered 'why' several times before just giving up. Red John had hoped that the prospect of imminent death would have given her some fighting spirit, that she would have attempted to escape or died trying. However, it wasn't meant to be, and the kill was as unsatisfying as the selection of the victim.

Then again, it had probably been for the best that she had gone quietly. The road was fairly busy and if she had screamed the place down, then she could easily have drawn attention to him.

Slowly, he dipped his fingers into the still-warm blood and started to draw his calling card on the wall, just above her head. Halfway through, he shivered slightly and stopped drawing. Staring at it quizzically, Red John tried to recollect his senses. However, his instincts were telling him to run for the hills. That there was danger afoot. There was no real reason for him to be feeling this way, though. No car had pulled up on the driveway outside and no impending footsteps had approached.

That didn't change his intuition though.

Hurriedly, he finished painting the smiley face. It was a rough job; it looked like it had been drawn by an amateur, but it was better than nothing. He wasn't one to do half a job. Quickly, he gathered together his belongings. Ordinarily, he would have released his victim from their bonds for artistry, but he simply didn't feel like he had the time. Something suggested that people were already out looking for him, but he wasn't entirely sure why.

And when he thought people, he meant his wife.

It was only once he was in his car and speeding off down the freeway when he realized that he had left his shoes behind. He cursed loudly; there was nobody there to hear his frustration. Red John knew that he had two choices: turn back and pick them up, or just leave them. Either way, he had to change his plans. If he went and picked them up, then he _knew_ that he'd be caught. But if he didn't, then Lisbon would know he was Red John anyway.

Which meant that Lisbon would have to die. It was a shame, naturally, but it couldn't have been helped. It was his fault anyway, for stalling on her murder in the first place. If he'd killed her years ago, like he had planned when he had first started luring her in, then he wouldn't have found himself in this mess. Despite the fact they had grown distant of late, Red John still had a fondness for her. He knew that when he finally stuck the knife into her flesh, that her death was the one he would carry to the grave. Already, he could feel the guilt rising in the pit of his stomach and he hadn't even killed her yet.

But if Lisbon knew, then so would Patrick Jane. Red John didn't doubt that Lisbon would immediately confide in them from the very moment that she had worked it out.

He knew that death threats lingered over him from that man specifically. Lisbon had confided in him often enough. Red John shook his head. He'd deal with Jane when the time came, as well. For now, he was simply going to go home, sit and wait for Lisbon to turn up. He was genuinely intrigued to see how she would react to the situation. And of course, she was a hopeless liar, so there would be amusement on that front.

But really, all he could do was hope that Lisbon's death would completely destroy Jane in the process. That was the main reason he had dragged on their relationship for these extra few months.

Wasn't it?


	13. Entrapment

Lisbon glanced warily over at Jane. The color seemed to have completely drained from his face. This was the soonest after a Red John murder that they had seen the body. It had yet to even enter the state of rigor mortis. As always, the tang of iron hit her the moment she entered the room, quickly followed by the stench of death. These things didn't bother Lisbon; they hadn't for years. She had grown accustomed to such things during the course of her career. Instead, she simply felt angry, although she always did whenever Red John killed.

But this time, it was far worse than any previous experience. She knew precisely who was responsible for this death – and all of the others too. She felt betrayed by Jackson, but furious with herself. Lisbon believed that she should have seen the signs and that she should have known who he truly was underneath the pleasant exterior. Instead, she had ignored the hints and chosen to live in blissful denial. For years, this had gone on right underneath her nose. There were so many deaths she could have prevented, including that of Jane's family.

And it had cost her the relationship she had shared with her brother. In fact, it had cost Tommy his relationship with his other brothers too. After his accident, the Lisbon siblings had rallied around one another, but when she had announced that she was marrying Jackson, that had all changed. While Joseph and James had supported her wholeheartedly, Tommy had refused to speak to her ever again. Or at least, until she saw sense and got the hell away from Jackson Roberts, or so he said. Now, it seemed like he had been right all along.

"It was him," Lisbon whispered to Jane quietly.

"How do you know?"

If she hadn't been feeling so mixed up, she would have laughed at Jane being the one who was unsure for a change.

"He left his shoes behind."

"I _did_ think they looked out of place," he responded.

They fell into an uneasy silence as the coroner approached to have a conversation about the deceased. Lisbon attempted to listen diligently, but soon found her mind wandering. Now, it seemed like this routine was a waste of precious time. They had identified who Red John was and now, they had to play catch up with him.

Lisbon could practically imagine Jackson laughing at her ineptitude as he drove back home.

"I can't go home," she eventually blurted out once she and Jane had managed to excuse themselves from the crime scene. "Red John doesn't make mistakes. He'll know I've worked it out and I'll be next."

"Lisbon…" Jane started slowly and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me, you'll be fine. Just breathe in and out, in and out."

With one swift movement, she cut his arm away with a slice of her hand and stared back at him angrily. Deep down, Lisbon knew that he was only trying to help, but instead, it only serve to annoy her further. Jane knew how she felt about his abilities, but that never stopped him from trying to play tricks on her.

"Don't you dare try any of your mind games on me," she said frostily.

"I wouldn't even dream of it, but you _do_ need to calm down."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are," he answered back skeptically.

Lisbon let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. However much she wanted to deny it, Jane was right. Going into a state of panic wasn't going to help anybody. Besides, this was what she had been trained to do. This was the case she had always wanted to close, and finally she had the answers she'd craved for. Unfortunately, she also loathed the direction they pointed in. Still, all she had to do was treat this like any other case and react accordingly. This was just like any other case, where they were chasing down the perpetrator. There was one thing she had to clear first.

"You leave him to me."

"Lisbon…"

"I _know_ you want revenge and I know this is Red John we're dealing with, but he's still my husband. If anybody has the right to ask you to leave him alone, it's me."

Jane bowed his head slightly in thought. "I won't touch him."

"Good."

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"I know him," she answered back simply.

However dangerous it was, Lisbon knew there was only one way they were going to ensnare Red John. She had to go home and pretend she was as oblivious as ever. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt would be stationed outside, waiting patiently as she made the arrest. She knew they'd need more backup too, just to be safe. Lisbon smiled weakly at Jane in gratitude. Part of her still wondered if the only reason Jane was happy to go along with her plans was because it seemed like the only way. At least it seemed like she was saving him from himself, which was more than could have been said for Jackson. Patrick Jane wouldn't be able to become a murderer.

But he wouldn't be able to exact his revenge, either.

She could only hope that he would find peace in some other way. That, and that he wouldn't leave the CBI. Lisbon was never going to dare to admit it to his face – his ego was already severely over-inflated – but he had become quite indispensable to her. She couldn't imagine work without his antics anymore. They certainly had made the place more interesting.

It didn't take long for them to put everything into place. Once they arrived back at the CBI headquarters in the early evening, Lisbon headed straight to her car. They had to get everything moving now, otherwise they were going to miss their opportunity. Jackson had sent her a text message, saying he was due home soon. If he arrived home too early, then he would know that some of his stuff was missing and probably take flight.

Her heart thrummed in trepidation as she opened the car door. Jane caught hold of her wrist and she spun around to look at him. She had believed he'd disappeared off somewhere, probably to update Minelli on the finalizations of their plans.

"Good luck, Teresa," he muttered and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

Lisbon didn't even have words to respond. Anything she could have said died on her lips. Instead, she briefly touched her cheek in the place that he had kissed her and wondered what the hell he had meant by it.

Now wasn't the time to worry. Now, she had to go and arrest her husband.

xxx

"Hello, dear," Red John spoke as he opened the door widely to allow Lisbon in. "How was your day at work?"

She made a noncommittal shrug and instead, just dumped her purse down and kicked off her shoes. Red John watched carefully as she did so. Technically, there was nothing all too different about her reaction to his question. In fact, this was her routine every day whenever she got home from work at a reasonable time. However, he swore he saw that glint in her eyes, the one that said 'I know who you are and what you do.' Her slight frown practically screamed out 'you betrayed me; how could you?' Still he didn't react.

"I got Thai as the meeting ran late," he continued as she slid out of her jacket. "I hope that's okay?"

"I ate at work."

"Liar," he taunted and wondered if she would catch on the duality of his words.

"We closed a case; we had pizza."

"Oh," he answered back, attempting to sound as small and insignificant as possible. Lisbon's expression softened a little. Either he had made her feel a touch guilty or she was a better actress than he'd ever believed.

"I'm sorry, but I'm really not hungry."

"Then neither am I."

"Don't starve yourself on my account; it's unhealthy."

"Pot kettle black," he muttered back in response.

Lisbon seemed a little distracted and ignored his statement. She glanced out of the window and his eyes followed her path. A red SUV was parked opposite the house; it looked like a fairly new model. Immediately, he gathered that she had brought back up on this little jaunt. Red John would have paid good money on a bet that Agents Wayne Rigsby and Kimball Cho were currently seated in that car, awaiting further instructions.

He also figured that, somewhere in her ensemble, his wife was probably wearing some sort of camera and/or a listening device. The question was where. He needed to get it off of her and to dispose of it before he carried out the next part of his plan. Having cops nearby didn't faze him; his rage at her discovery had built over the hours. Now, he just wanted her dead. Red John had already accepted that he probably wasn't going to make it out of the day alive. However, he sure as hell wasn't going to go alone. He wanted to drag Teresa Lisbon down with him.

That, after all, was why he had a knife stashed in his back pocket. The knife still had the blood from his latest victim staining it, but it was after something infinitely more satisfying. It was waiting patiently for the soft flesh of Lisbon's throat and for her blood to be spilled over it. He smiled at the very thought.

"You seem tense."

"I'm fine," she said, with an air of detachment.

"But you said you closed a case?"

"We got another one."

"Anything you can tell me about?" he pushed.

Lisbon shook her head. Ever since he had left the CBI, she had promptly stopped discussing work with him. She took confidentiality very seriously and just because he had once been a part of the bureau, it didn't mean she could continue telling him little facts. Technically, she shouldn't have in the first place, but his leaving had simply reminded her of the fact. Company secrets were to be kept under lock and key. Sometimes, she apologized for behaving so cagily, but usually she didn't bother. She was only following the rules, after all.

"Come here," he said and she shook her head again. "I said, _come here_."

Reluctantly she obeyed instructions, and he ran his hands across the length of her back. For a while, she seemed to melt into his touch and he almost felt sad. This was the last time he would feel this kind of closeness to his wife; it was the end of an era. So, when she pushed him away somewhat aggressively, he was rather taken aback. He hadn't expected her to do that.

In her hands was the very knife that he had just been thinking about.

"Would I be right to assume that the blood of Jessica Aldred is on this knife?"

"Who?" he asked, and he pretended to be oblivious as he did so.

"Jackson, don't lie."

"What do you want me to say, _Agent_?" he hissed.

"The truth, Jackson, or should I say _Red John_?" she growled back at him.

He bowed his head in response and apologized. Swiftly, Lisbon suddenly had him pinned to the floor and Red John swore loudly at her. While he tried to fight against it, Lisbon had been well-trained in the arts of self-defense and grappling; she knew what she was doing. Eventually, she read him the Miranda rights and had him in cuffs. Then, she called the guys in and they both seemed relieved to see that she had gotten through the experience in one piece.

When he was dragged out to the SUV by Cho and Rigsby, he felt a little vindicated by the fact that he had been right about their presence.

It didn't change the fact that the serial killer known to all as Red John was now in the custody of the CBI though.

He had lost.


	14. Interrogation

Teresa Lisbon sat in the bullpen, on Jane's couch with a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She stared out into space, specifically avoiding focusing on anything in particular. Her mind was whirring away, thinking about all the developments that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. There was so much to take in; Lisbon knew she would be thinking about the aftereffects for months, maybe even years. After all, how was she meant to adjust to so many shocks in such a small space of time?

She had been brought up to believe that marriage was for life, not just a passing fancy. How could she do that when her husband was who he was? Lisbon didn't doubt that he was planning to kill her eventually; that was what Red John did. He ingratiated himself in women's lives and then brutally murdered them when they were at their most trusting of him. There were certain things that Jackson had said, ways he'd reacted and things that he'd done, that she felt she should have picked up on. However, they always said that hindsight had a perfect 20-20 vision.

Did it change how she felt about the man she had married? Of course it did; anything like this was bound to alter feelings and emotions. But then, her mind was so jumbled up with contradictions of love and hate that it was currently virtually impossible for her to see straight. She hated everything that Red John had done and everything that he stood for. However, Red John wasn't the man she had fallen in love with. Really, she needed answers to questions that she didn't even know yet.

There was one she was certain of though: had he ever felt anything for her? Had he ever thought of her as anything more than a victim? Or was their whole marriage a sham, with him simply counting down the days until he had chosen to kill her?

She sighed heavily. And to think, she had first met Jackson here, within these four walls. Lisbon had believed he had been a good, kind, honest soul, just as she believed all of her work colleagues to be. Not once had she ever thought bad of the people she worked with; sure some of them were chauvinistic and they could be jackasses at times, but as far as she was concerned they were all fighting for the same cause. They were on the right side of the law. Instead, Red John himself had somehow slipped underneath the radar and he had tried to corrupt the CBI from the inside out. Suddenly, beyond her team, she wasn't sure who she could trust. Who knew just how many people that Red John had won over before he had 'graciously' left the bureau?

Lisbon didn't even bother to react when she heard footsteps approaching her and instead, chose to remain motionless. Jane would probably have said she had fallen into a catatonic state due to shock, or something like that, and he would most likely have been right as well. At the moment though, it was easier for her to choose not to react, otherwise she was likely to explode.

"I'd stop staring at that tea, otherwise it's gonna get cold."

She blinked several times and Virgil Minelli came into focus. Briefly she wondered if he knew anything about Jackson's alter ego, or if he had been as oblivious as she was. Without saying another word, he took a seat beside her. Lisbon placed the teacup down on the side table, mostly to stall the conversation and give her some more time to think. She hadn't really wanted it anyway; she had only prepared it to keep herself busy. Now that she had finally stopped, she didn't really want to do anything at all but sit and wait for the outcome of the interrogation.

After that, Lisbon knew that the team would have to officially interview her as well. They'd need to ascertain certain facts from her. Work out if she had actually known he was Red John from the offset and turned a blind eye or worse, aided him instead of turning him in. Of course, she knew the truth. There were things that had caused her to question her relationship in the past, but that was only natural to her. She doubted anything and everything. Her secrecy was partially due to the catastrophic reaction of Tommy and the fact she wanted to keep her personal and work lives as separate as possible. Having met Jackson within the CBI had made things messy enough as it was. In reality, it just all felt like a horrific mess and Lisbon wasn't quite sure what direction to turn in.

"Don't you have an interrogation to be watching?" she asked Minelli eventually.

"Don't _you_ have an interrogation to be conducting?" he countered.

"Touché."

They fell into silence once more. In reality, Lisbon knew that Minelli had never expected her to interrogate her own husband. For a start, it was completely and utterly against company protocol. She was far too biased for such a job. It was also a morally sickening position to be in. Any direction she could have turned in felt like the wrong one. Lisbon had barely felt comfortable putting Cho and Jane through the ordeal of interrogating Jackson. She knew that both men were more than a match for her husband, but that didn't change facts. It was a job that needed doing and she couldn't control the secrets or lies that would come out of Jackson's mouth. Jane and Cho would have to separate the proverbial wheat from the chaff and no doubt, they would discover some things about her that she would rather they didn't know about. Still, it was a sacrifice that she was willing to make, and she knew that she had to. Red John needed to be convicted, regardless of any personal ties she had to the person in question.

"How are you holding up?"

"Honestly?" she asked and he nodded. "I don't know."

"It'll get better."

"Will it?" she retorted; he couldn't understand her moral dilemma. "Did you have any idea that he was really Red John when you hired him?"

"Teresa, you have to believe me, I had no idea whatsoever. He's an exceptionally clever man."

"I know."

"I was almost pleased when I heard you two were going to be married."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she remembered her wedding day. Minelli had sat on the front row and looked as proud as any father would have.

"I hate what's happened and I blame myself for it," he continued.

"Me too," she agreed quietly.

xxx

Patrick Jane sat directly opposite him and smiled winningly. Automatically, Red John dragged his eye line away from the man and to the corner of the interrogation room. Within the shadows, Kimball Cho stood; a calming presence to stop the man opposite him from doing something reckless. Like, a last ditch attempt to kill him. Red John wouldn't have blamed Jane for that. After all, the situation they found themselves in meant that he was so close, yet so far away from exacting his revenge. Unlike many relatives and friends of murder victims, Jane appeared to be the one most serious about his quest. It was the principle reason he had joined the CBI. But then, despite some of his practically infamous antics in solving other cases, Jane didn't seem quite as foolhardy as to murder somebody on CBI soil.

It felt strange being back within the confines of these four walls once more. Despite hearing what was happening via his allies and, of course, his wife, it wasn't quite the same as being back there in the flesh. However, last time he was here, he'd bid farewell to a steady job. Theoretically, he'd always imagined his return to be one where he was just catching up with old work colleagues, or maybe consulting on a case or two. Instead, Red John was shackled and cuffed; well and truly the position of a criminal. The CBI rumor mill was going to be having a ball with this one.

Jane leant back, appearing to be completely at ease with the situation he found himself in. It was a lie though; the tells were barely perceptible but they were there. The man was clearly feeling distinctly uncomfortable and unsure of himself. He did not really know how to react to the man who had killed his family. The same man who had married the only woman he felt a fondness for – no, a love for – since his wife's passing. There was definitely an air of resentment about his body language. One that didn't stem from old demons but current ones. Red John felt vindicated; he knew that Patrick Jane had fallen for his wife. The more important question was what did she think about him?

"It's good to meet you," Jane eventually said, breaking the silence when Red John started to mimic his pose.

"I wish I could say the feeling was mutual."

Red John placed his hands on the desk in front of him, the one physical barrier between himself and Jane. He made sure that the gold band on his left finger, not too dissimilar to the one Jane wore, was well within the man's sight. He was quickly rewarded with a momentary glance from the blond. Red John's smile widened. Patrick Jane had just handed him his first weapon. Or at least, to open up the communication pathways. Red John already knew that the interrogation was just procedure. They already had more than enough evidence to send him straight to death row. The knife that Lisbon had taken off him was a start.

"You still cannot believe that Teresa Lisbon married a man like me, can you?"

"I still don't know if her suspicions are correct," Jane answered back.

"You want proof that I'm Red John? That I killed your wife and daughter?"

"Yes."

Red John sighed; he knew that Jane wouldn't accept the answers given to him at face value. He needed more than that; something which he could actively connect to. For Jane, anything else was circumstantial. It might still have made him an 'evil man' but it didn't mean he was responsible for the deaths of Angela Ruskin-Jane and Charlotte Jane.

"Your wife wore nothing but a dash of perfume – preferable Chanel – to bed," Red John answered with a smirk and Jane's face fell slightly. "And your daughter always snuck into bed with you and your wife at one a.m., give or take a few minutes. She always brought her favorite cuddly toy with her – a stuffed elephant. The elephant was missing when you returned home, in spite of you searching high and low for it. I took it as a keepsake and it can be found in the basement of the home I now share with Teresa."

"She doesn't love you, you know?"

Red John looked rather taken aback by the statement. In recent months – since Jane's inclusion in her life, to be precise – things had been rather strained between them. However, that didn't mean she didn't love him. All marriages had their difficulties and their one, specifically, had more unusual problems than most. The marriage of a serial killer and a cop who specialized in investigating murder was always going to be a little different. Then again, recent revelations would probably cause Lisbon to reassess everything.

Eventually, she'd probably love him and hate him in equal measures.

"She's my wife."

"It doesn't mean she loves you though," Jane replied lightly. "She'll never forgive you – or herself – for this."

"She doesn't love you either."

"I never thought she did."

"The number of times she came home, in a rage or on the verge of tears because of you…" Red John said, keen to stick the knife in. "Don't be surprised if she gives up on you after this. She doesn't owe you a thing."

"But I owe her."

"And that's why you're not tearing me to shreds right now?"

"Yes. And the fact that it would be a stupid move on my part." Jane glanced quickly at Cho, who smirked, after he finished speaking.

"Funny sign of respect you have there, Mr. Jane."

"The same applies to you, Mr. Roberts."

"Please, call me Red John."

"That's not what the courts will call you. I'm done here."

Jane stood and Red John watched as he left the room. His vacated seat was quickly replaced by Cho, who held a number of forms in his hands. Of course Red John was going to appear to go along willingly. He knew that he'd find a way out of this sticky spot.

That was what he always did.


	15. Escape

The court proceedings were long and drawn out. Lisbon expected that; the conviction of Red John was never going to be a short and easy one. Even though he had freely admitted to being the serial killer, and working mostly alone, it didn't help matters. He needed to be cross examined, re-examined and then cross examined again. They needed to conclusively prove that he was responsible for each and every murder that Red John was on record as having carried out.

Then, there was her role in matters. Many thought she had to be partially responsible, or at least in cahoots with Jackson Roberts. How else would she have willingly married a serial killer? People seemed constantly eager to smear her name, had suggested that she should have been thrown out of the CBI and into jail herself, or worse, just because of her naiveté. At least Minelli and her team, Jane included, had remained steadfast by her side. And now, she had finally managed to clear her name in the courts. The only problem was, that wouldn't stop the rumor mill from whirring on.

She didn't help matters for herself either. For a start, she hadn't filed for divorce the moment that she had discovered Jackson's alter ego. In fact, Lisbon still hadn't done so, now that he had finally been convicted and sent to death row. Sometimes, she told herself that she had been too busy. She had been trying to save her career, watching the trial and sorting out the emotional wreck that was in her head. Now, she wasn't even sure what her excuse was. Lisbon had actively avoided seeing him in jail; she didn't know if she could take that. Maybe the marriage was just her legacy to bear, to remind her of just how stupid and trusting she had been? Really, she was just tired of all the major decisions she had to make in life at the moment.

One of the first things Lisbon had done after Jackson's arrest was to promptly move out and into a modest townhouse near work. It wasn't anywhere near as lavish as his property, but it provided her with everything she required to live it was hers and hers alone. She'd never felt truly welcome in his place; she'd never been able to put her stamp on it, nor had she even felt comfortable accessing certain rooms. She still had nightmares about the moment he had entered the basement and carefully drawn out the knife that had killed so many people.

She worried about Jane, too. Though the man who had killed his wife and daughter was behind bars, he had never gotten what he truly wanted. Lisbon worried that this was like him losing them all over again and that he was going to fall into pieces. Instinctively, she stuck close by him, with the hope that her presence would stop him from doing anything too stupid. In the end, it felt like they were giving each other that mutual support necessary to get them both through this difficult period in their lives. Both of them had lost something intangible and both, somehow, needed to either get closure or learn how to move on. It wasn't an easy process, but Lisbon had never expected it to be as such.

Work had also become inordinately more difficult and it was that that Lisbon was using to occupy her time with, as well as provide a distraction. Divorce papers did clutter up her desk, somewhere, but she had more important things to worry about. There had been some sporadic, random deaths going on, ones that couldn't be linked to anyone but Red John. However, he was behind bars, so that was impossible. It was becoming increasingly clear that she needed to work on taking down Red John's network before this would be truly over. She had started by tackling the difficult task of working out the identities of the moles within the CBI first. It had taken her a long while to even begin to trust her team again; at one point she had feared that the unit would have been destroyed by this mistrust alone. In the end, the newest member of the team, Grace Van Pelt, had been the one to identify that one of Jackson's old colleagues within the PSU was a mole. Shortly after, they had also arrested two of the cleaners, thanks to investigations by Rigsby and Cho.

Still, the murders continued to happen, but they were coming through more infrequently. It felt like they were finally beginning to get somewhere. Jane especially seemed to relish in the task of bringing down Red John's team, almost more so than hunting down the man himself. All Lisbon could do was hope that he found something new to drive for after that job was finally put behind her.

And she hoped she would find something to focus on herself too. She hated the idea that the loss was almost beginning to define her. Lisbon was working ten times harder than she had done so in the past, almost to make up for her errors of judgment. Rarely did she treat herself outside of work. So long as she was healthy enough to do the job, she didn't care. Occasionally, Jane stepped in and made sure she was eating and drinking properly. His behavior almost baffled her. She was surprised he didn't hold it against her that she was married to Red John and that as a consequence, she had destroyed his chances of seeking revenge.

In the end, it was that which made her pick up the ballpoint pen and the divorce papers. She had punished herself for long enough. As the months had slipped by, she had fallen out of love with Jackson Roberts as she became increasingly aware of what it was he'd done. There was absolutely no way she was willing to reconcile with the man currently sitting on death row.

Lisbon needed to reclaim her life as her own.

xxx

Red John rested on the cot in his cell and smiled contentedly to himself.

Considering he was on death row, and his execution could have theoretically come up at any time, he was completely relaxed. He heard the security guards, the prison wardens and the like all complaining that he seemed _too_ relaxed for a man in his current predicament. They repeatedly said that they suspected he was up to something and they were entirely correct. He was up to something and he did have something planned. There was absolutely no way that Red John was going to die behind bars. When he knew the game was up with Lisbon, he had already set other plans into motion. Getting caught, sacrificing himself to her and her team had all been part of the plan. It wasn't going to be long now until he escaped jail.

During his time behind bars, several of his allies had also been sent to jail too. Red John was grateful for the sacrifice they had made to his cause and wished them no harm for the future. They knew there was nothing more he could do for them; that they were on their own now. Whether they lived or died had no effect on him. It wasn't as if they knew any dangerous material that they could sell to the cops. The CBI already knew his identity all too well and they were hurting.

He had made a mockery of the institution. People didn't want to entrust them with the 'big' cases any longer. Why would politicians and movie stars and other powerful people want to deal with them when one of the state's worst criminals in recent history had once been in their employ? And worse, he had been married to one of their leading agents. As far as he knew, Teresa Lisbon still, miraculously, held her position within the CBI. So, Virgil Minelli hadn't cast her to the sharks then. But then again, Minelli had also hired a man who was incredibly open about his desire for revenge, so it wasn't entirely surprising that he'd kept Lisbon on either. Regardless, it seemed like foolish business sense and the CBI had a lot of rebuilding to do with its public image. Watching them slowly but surely bring down his network probably marginally helped. Red John was actually surprised at just how quickly it was disintegrating, if he was entirely honest with himself.

That was probably entirely down to his wife and her tireless efforts. He could practically imagine just how bruised and battered she felt by all of these revelations. She knew him like no other; she also had resources at her fingertips, thanks to the access she had to his house. This was probably all invaluable to her. Most likely, it was what was eating up all of her precious time.

So much so, that she hadn't even bothered to take the time to come and visit him in jail. Lisbon hadn't even sent him some mail, not even the divorce papers citing 'irreconcilable differences' as a reason to end the marriage. Red John knew that she had diligently attended his trial and sentencing, however. Every day, he had searched out for her in the audience and felt reassured by her presence. His attachment to her hadn't dimmed. It was partially due to the fact that she was currently the victim that wasn't, but also because of his genuine fondness. Despite her mistrustful nature, she was still loyal to a fault. Attending the trial was probably her way of honoring the marriage they had shared.

Red John still hadn't given up the hopes of dragging her down to Hell with him. There was still time. He'd been counting down the hours, days, weeks for months on end. He knew what the date was and had done all the groundwork ready for this moment. Tonight, things were going to change once more. The ball was going to be well and truly back in his court. All he had to do was wait for the signal, the key moment, and then he would have to react accordingly. It was all too simple.

Years ago, he had planted a mole within this very jail. Red John had always known that if – or when – he was caught, then he would be sent to Pelican Bay. Naturally, he had dealt with that issue straightway. The situation had become even more paramount when he had chosen to lure Lisbon in. And once he started stalling when it came to killing her, he knew that sooner or later fate would come around and bite him on the ass. Her intrigue would kick in, her desire to know why he was so secretive and what he had been trying desperately to hide from her would become too much. When it came down to simply who could react faster, he was hardly surprised. On paper, it could have gone either way. The first time, when he'd been arrested, the odds had been in Lisbon's favor.

Next time, she wasn't going to be quite so lucky.

Two guards walked past his cell. Red John cracked an eye open; the voice of one sounded startlingly familiar. It was his mole, his ally, his friend. He craned to hear, waiting, waiting, for the key phrase.

"I hear the weather's nice in Sacramento," his friend remarked and the other man nodded accordingly.

Now was the time for Red John's great escape from jail.

He smeared some jelly onto his tongue. This chemical concoction had been smuggled into his cell month ago, ready for this very day. Within seconds, as soon as the chemicals had been absorbed into his blood supply, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Almost immediately after, he started frothing at the mouth and his body went into spasm; a full tonic-clonic seizure.

At that moment in time, Red John didn't think a thing. If he could, he would have felt no fear. After a week's hiding, he would be fully recovered.

And then, the hunt for Teresa Lisbon would be well and truly on.


	16. Russian Roulette

It was another day, and another day of paperwork. Lisbon sat huddled behind her desk, typing away at her computer while Jane dozed on the couch in her office. Recently, the number of cases she had been trusted with had gone back up. For a while, there had been a slump. The public perception of the CBI had been at an all-time low, despite the fact that they had successfully arrested the notorious Red John. Only since the public had watched them slowly destroy the network behind him had people begun to trust them once again.

In a way, it made her feel relieved. She had been terrified that she had aided in destroying the CBI. The last thing she had wanted was for the institution to have been dissolved, or taken over by the FBI. There had been a lot of fateful errors made by numerous people, but they were learning from them fast. And work was always her respite from the realities of her life; she was still yet to post off the divorce papers, partially because she had been keeping herself so busy in other ways.

Suddenly, the phone broke the silence with a shrill ring. It was an internal call, from Minelli. Quickly, Lisbon scooped up the device and pressed it to her ears. Minelli sounded agitated, but refused to speak to her over the line. Sensing it was important, she bid him farewell, gave Jane a quick glance as he mumbled something incoherently in his sleep. Then, she bounded up the spiral staircase and towards Minelli's office. She rapped on the door three times before he had a chance to tell her to enter.

"Take a seat, Teresa," he said and she flinched.

"Why?"

"I think it's better if you sit down."

Dubiously, Lisbon followed instructions. Considering it was meant to be something important, Minelli stalled himself for quite some time. It seemed like he didn't want to tell her something, but he had to. Her mind ran over the possibilities: she was losing her job and he couldn't save it anymore, a criminal she had previously put behind bars had been paroled, a date had been received for Jackson's execution. In the end it was none of those things.

"Red John has escaped jail," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"Oh."

"Teresa…"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"I am. I'll find him, boss. You can count on me," she answered back.

Quickly, she dismissed herself and headed back downstairs to her office. She slipped in behind her desk and stared down at it for several seconds. When she looked up, Jane was staring at her quizzically. When she didn't say anything, he stood up and closed the distance until only her desk remained between them. Only then did she break the bad news. Jane seemed unsurprisingly stunned, but there was nothing she could do about that. Then, she followed it up with her suspicions and plan as a consequence. Jane hung onto her each and every word and had the common courtesy not to interrupt until she had finished.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked.

"Jane, this is what I'm trained to do."

"I know, but you're _married_ to the man."

"Only in writing," she answered back hastily.

"So?"

"Why are you so worried about my safety, anyway?"

"I care."

"Is that all?"

"Does there need to be any other reason?" he queried.

"No."

Slowly, she picked up her gun from her desk and slipped it into her holster. That was quickly followed by her Taser and handcuffs. Then, she turned around and slipped the jacket off the back of her chair, where she had carelessly slung it first thing in the morning. Lisbon could feel Jane's eyes watching her every move. Normally, it didn't bother her because she was used to it, but today it just made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. She felt as though she could cut the atmosphere with a knife, and that was hardly surprising. This already felt like a repeat of what had happened the first time she had apprehended Red John. And now, she was willingly heading back to exactly the same place for a repeat performance. All she could do was hope and pray that it would have precisely the same outcome.

Eventually, she turned around to stare Jane square in the eye. She wondered if he was going to bother asking her to bring him along for the ride. Lisbon knew that somewhere within him, he was probably still hoping for that revenge that had slipped him by last time. It was an undeniable fact that Jane could probably outwit Jackson Roberts – however clever the latter may have been – but when it came to brute strength, Jackson would have won every single time. So, she waited for him to ask, patiently, hoping that the unwritten promise that if anyone could ask him to spare Red John, it was her, still stood.

The question never came. Instead, Jane reached over and allowed his fingers to graze against hers. The touch was unexpected, but Lisbon tried not to respond to it. However, Jane made an indistinct noise before smiling wryly. A cat was always wearing its patented grin, but that didn't necessarily make it happy, she mused.

"Stay safe, Teresa," he murmured when she eventually pulled away.

"I will," she answered back automatically.

"I mean it. He's a dangerous man and he's out for _your_ blood."

"I know him," she replied simply.

The look in his eyes said precisely what he was thinking without him needing to: _you've said that before_. She nodded slightly before she turned on her heels. Her heart began to pound as she walked, alone, out of her office. Rigsby had already started on the journey to Pelican Bay to track down the security guard who had aided Red John in his escape from jail. Meanwhile, Cho and Van Pelt were meeting her at the house. But despite the fact that Lisbon knew she would have reliable backup, she still had to enter that damn house alone.

She found herself blinking back the tears. This was the longest walk out of the CBI headquarters she had ever done. Inevitably, it was going to be the longest drive 'home' as well. But then, this was never going to be easy.

Already, the voices in her head were reminding her that, last time; it had been all too easy. Somehow, she could practically sense that this was going to have the same outcome. All she could do was hope and pray that she got out of it unscathed once more.

xxx

He hid in the shadows of his basement. Theoretically, there was any place he could have met up with his wife again. Over another dead body, in the restaurant they first met, in Malibu at Patrick Jane's home. He could even have snuck into the CBI and surprised her in the office. But, the basement at his family home had been where their lives had suddenly grown disconnected and it was where everything began falling apart. It just made perfect sense to him to end it here. Red John knew it wouldn't take long until she caught wind of the news of his escape. And that as soon as she did, she would have been on his tail, desperate to track him down before he killed anymore innocent lives. She would inevitably have the same thought as him, and head straight here for more clues.

And he had only one life on his mind and that was Lisbon's own.

It felt like a necessary evil; how else was he going to end his career with a flourish? He knew that Lisbon would bring back up, even if she said she didn't. If his modus operandi was leaving a smiley face above the victims of the deceased, hers was being fully armed and fully supported by her loyal team. Really, they weren't too dissimilar at all. The only real difference was, that when killing, she wore a badge and it was seen as being 'within the law' and 'self-defense' and when he did it, it was bloody murder.

After a good three hours of waiting, he did begin to wonder if she had even heard the news. Vaguely, he considered giving the CBI an anonymous tip off as to his current location, with the hope that she would come in all guns blazing. Five minutes later, he heard the door to the cellar creak slowly open and then, the basement light flickered on, flooding the place with harsh lighting. He blinked several times and when he refocused, Lisbon was making her way carefully down the staircase, her gun held firmly in front of her, ready to shoot.

He stepped out of the shadows, gripping hold of his knife tightly.

"It's been too long, my love," he spoke clearly.

"Put down your weapon," she stated, as authoritative as ever.

"Darling, must it always come down to weapons between us?"

"I said, put it down."

"I know you did, dear."

"Jack…"

"Only if you put down yours too," he demanded. "A bullet moves faster than a knife, you know."

She shrugged apathetically. "You first."

He sighed, dropped the knife to the floor and kicked it aside. It didn't matter; she didn't know it yet, but he was still armed. Red John watched as Lisbon slowly placed her gun on the floor and made sure it was out of her reach. She believed they were now on an equal footing; unarmed and using just their wits. Her naiveté made him smirk in response.

"The Taser too."

"Fine," she answered, rolling her eyes as she relinquished possession of it.

"That's better. We can talk now. Or…" he trailed off and smirked slightly

"Or?" she echoed, with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

He closed the distance between them and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. She flinched at the touch and he frowned a little. Lisbon was his wife; his caress should have been welcomed, not frowned upon. After all, she had held off on filing those divorce papers, despite mounting pressure from everybody around her. She was either incredibly loyal to her vows and thus, him, or just couldn't bear to bring herself to admitting that she had a failed marriage behind her. Emboldened by the thought, he placed a chaste kiss on her lips. When she actively deepened it, he was pleasantly surprised. The swipe of her tongue across his teeth had been sorely missed. Her hands worked wonders as they ran up and down his spine. He returned the compliment eagerly. There was still a passion between them; it would remain until _she_ was six feet under.

Quickly, she pulled away, pushing him away forcefully as she did so. When he looked down to see his gun – his backup weapon – in her possession, he cursed quietly. She had worked him out then; he had underestimated his wife for a second time.

"Did you bring anybody with you?"

"No," she answered

"Liar," he replied, confident in his ability to read his wife. "You're not going to shoot me, then."

"Oh really?"

The first time she shot, she missed. Red John scrabbled on the floor until he finally had hold of Lisbon's gun. This was it, between the two of them. It was a battle of wits, which of them could shoot faster, more accurately. She had more training than him, but he had a natural aptitude with weaponry. He grinned; it was almost like a game. Except, the prize was the ultimate cost: you either lived or you died. Which was it to be?

He fired before she had the chance to do so again, and like Lisbon, he missed. She didn't with her second shot, however. It struck him in the right arm, his shooting arm; he yelped and the gun clattered to the floor. Red John glanced at Lisbon; her green eyes looked sad, almost hollow in a way.

"Patrick Jane says hi," she said lightly as her finger pulled on the trigger one final time.

He barely had time to register the shooting pain in his abdomen before she slipped the gun into her holster. She watched as he staggered back a few steps, lifted his hand away from his stomach to see his fingers painted in blood. Not somebody else's this time, and most certainly not Lisbon's, but his own.

After what felt like a lifetime, his knees gave way, buckling underneath the weight of his body.

A few seconds later and his eyes fluttered shut for the very last time.


	17. Epilogue

Dark shadows cast over the skies; entirely appropriate for a funeral. Perhaps, less so, for the funeral of a serial killer, Lisbon mused. She had been insistent on giving Jackson Roberts that right. He had given her many fairly happy years. That was before they had been tainted, at the very least. Still, as a Catholic, she believed he deserved that honor just as much as anyone else did. And as he had no living family, beyond her, it fell on her shoulders to organize the whole thing.

Jane had been a bit skeptical about her decision, but she couldn't blame him for that. He still suffered with the loss of his family day in, day out. She had lost something too, but it was harder for her to pinpoint precisely what that was. It all felt foreign, intangible. In his death, she had also gained something too. Lisbon felt freer than she had done for a long while; no longer was she constricted by the binds that tied her to Red John. Maybe this was what closure felt like? All she could do was hope that she was right.

Nobody else attended the funeral, but she never expected anyone to do so. Everybody else only saw the monster that was Red John. They forgot that there was a human behind the mask, a tortured soul behind the knife. She liked to think she had gone some way to easing his demons, or at least for a little while, though in reality she probably knew that she was wrong. After all, he had continued to kill long after she had been on the scene. He had never really, stopped either.

Through the ceremony, she remained in a stony silence. Jane held onto her hand tightly and refused to let go of her. She was grateful for his presence, even though she had to make him swear that he wouldn't spit on the grave after Jackson had been buried. He'd said that he was only coming to support her throughout the ordeal anyway. She still wasn't sure whether or not she believed he wouldn't, but it didn't matter. Not anymore, anyway. Silently, she hoped that he would gain something from it though. It was a way for him to say farewell to the man who killed his family, and his demons. He'd already promised that he wasn't going to leave the CBI (or her) any time soon. That one she actually did believe.

It started to spit with rain when they were at the graveside. Lisbon maintained her steady silence, even when Jane let go of her hand. Originally, she wasn't going to place anything at the site, but after a moment's thought, she twisted the wedding band off of her finger and placed it neatly by the cold, hard stone. The engraving stated only his name and no clues as to his murderous identity. She offered a silent prayer for his soul as she straightened up and wasn't bothered by the rain in the slightest. If anything, she welcomed it; it washed all sins away.

Now, it well and truly was over.

Jane took hold of her once again as they walked away. The further away they got, the more tightly he held onto her. It was almost as if he believed she would be washed away with the rain if he didn't hold on. She looked upwards and a weak smile briefly flashed across her face. Between the clouds, there was a peek of sunshine. It warmed her spirit to see something like that.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon," Jane whispered and he sounded like he truly meant it.

"I know."


End file.
